Project Mockingbird
by BlackMoonWhiteSky
Summary: Operation Designation: Project Mockingbird; Objective: Creation of artificial N.B.E. units to be controlled by Military Personnel, currently only civilian subjects involved, through neurological links for the purpose of defending against possible attack.
1. Prologue: Secrets Held Close

**I don't really plan on starting this story quite yet but I thought I'd put the opening out there and see what I get back in the way of reviews, I'll probably put chapters up really randomly... then again, I kinda already do that... ^_^**

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><p>Project Mockingbird<p>

Prologue: Secrets Held Close.

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><p>-Story Start-<p>

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><p><em>Classification: Top Secret; Sector Seven Clearance Or Higher<em>

_Operation Designation: Project Mockingbird_

_Project Leader/Head Scientist: Drake, Bartholomew; Drake, Abigail_

_Subjects: Drake, Abigail; Johnson, Tony; Nightingale, Lyre_

_Funding: Private Sector, Drake Family; Possible Government Funding Pending Approval_

_Objective: Creation of artificial N.B.E. units to be controlled by Military Personnel (Currently only civilian subjects involved) through neurological links for the purpose of defending against possible attack by more N.B.E.s of the same make as N.B.E.1. Possible diplomatic function._

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><p><em>Subject 1:<em>

_Name: Drake, Abigail_

_Age: 22_

_Gender: Female_

_Bio: Daughter of Bartholomew Drake. Certified genius. Neurology based skill set, mathematical based skill set, advanced engineering skill set, managing skill set. Created Project Mockingbird with fellow test subject Nightingale, Lyre (The original Subject 1). Mother Deceased. Emotional detachment cause for concern. Monitoring Suggested._

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><p><em>Subject 2:<em>

_Name: Johnson, Tony_

_Age: 29_

_Gender: Male_

_Bio: Both parents in Military fields. Intelligence level above average. Most level-headed test subject. No previous connections to either Drake or Nightingale. Functions poorly as part of team unit. Mechanics skill set, combat skill set, weapons specialty._

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><p><em>Subject 3:<em>

_Name: Nightingale, Lyre_

_Age: 23_

_Gender: Female_

_Bio: Both parents deceased. Intelligence level untested, suspected to be genius level. Basic medical skill set, basic psychological skill set, advanced mechanics skill set, advanced hacking skill set, medium engineering skill set. Close friends with one Abigail Drake. Original Subject 1 at age of nineteen. Emotional instability cause for concern. Monitoring Suggested._

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><p><em>File Revision: <em>

_Classification: Top Secret; Sector Seven Clearance Or Higher_

_Operation Designation: Project Mockingbird_

_Project Leader/Head Scientist: Drake, Bartholomew (Deceased); Drake, Abigail_

_Subjects: Drake, Abigail; Johnson, Tony (Deceased); Nightingale, Lyre_

_Funding: Government Funding_

_Objective: Creation of artificial N.B.E. units to be controlled by Military Personnel (Currently only civilian subjects involved) through neurological links for the purpose of defending against possible attack by Decepticons of the same make as N.B.E.1 (Designation: Megatron). Possible diplomatic function._

_Secondary Objective: Creation of a reversed process in which a Cybertronian mind is placed in a vacant human body via neurological link in the hopes of causing stronger loyalties to the human race. Possible Militaristic function._

_Complications: Johnson declared brain-dead after the destruction of his N.B.E. form while he was still Linked-In. Drake, the Sr., flat lined after being in a coma for 68 hours following the attack on their base of operations, could not be revived. Nightingale suffering from loss of control of her legs due to head injury received during the same attack that caused the deaths of Drake Sr. and Johnson, confined to wheelchair, emotional instability increased. Drake, the Jr., suffering from emotional dependency on Nightingale. Nightingale and Drake now acquainted with Witwicky and the Autobots though they still protect the secret of the Project._

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><p>The file closed with a snap and a rather self-satisfied looking man leaned back in his seat, his eyes turned to a bird-like robot that was perched on the back of the chair across from his desk. "I think Lord Megatron will want to be made aware of this information, I believe he will find it… most enlightening." He chuckled.<p>

It was not a pleasant sound.


	2. The Two BBs

Project Mockingbird

Chapter 1: The Two B.B.s.

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><p>-Story Start-<p>

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><p>*Three years previous, set a few days before the first movie opens.*<p>

It was dark, sometime past midnight perhaps, not that the girl running through the network of alleys and side streets really _**cared**_ one way or the other except in the passing hope that the deeper shadows would better hide her form from the man chasing her down. She was pissed, scared but pissed, it was ridiculous as far as she was concerned, her other form could squish the man following her with no difficulties at all but _**nooo**_, that body was several _**miles**_ away and she was stuck with her pathetic weakling body.

Not that her body was really _**weak**_ per say but it was rather slight, and she **_did_** have several years of Jujitsu under her belt so it wasn't like she was defenseless or anything but the man had quite a few pounds on her, most of it seemed to be muscle, and, if the initial attempt at grabbing her was any indication, at least _**some**_ training in hand-to-hand combat. The reading level on her _pissed-off-__'__o-meter_, as her coworkers so kindly put it, was slowly rising past the '_Eff __this_' alert, at which point she would stop running and likely try to bludgeon the fool to death, hopefully with something other than her fists, as she really disliked having to deal with swollen hands. Luckily, before she reached that level, she turned a corner and found an alley with several doors opening out into it, she paused for only a moment to stare incredulously at the, while obviously old still totally _**hot**_, yellow Camaro that was just sitting pretty in the middle of everything before she came back to herself with a lurch and began trying every door in sight.

"Well shit." That was the only thing that came to mind when she came to the realization that every damn door available was _**locked**_. It would be okay, or… well at least not that bad, if it weren't for the fact that this particular alleyway was a dead end and the time she'd spent on checking the doors had allowed her pursuer to close the extensive gap she'd managed to make, those extra pounds made a difference, even if they _**were**_ muscle, and she could tell by the sound of his footsteps that he would be on her in what felt like a matter of seconds. Her eyes raked the surrounding area, searching for somewhere, anywhere, to hide, they caught on the Camaro and she practically dove for the passenger door muttering a, '_Please __be __unlocked, __in __the __names __of __all __the __deities, _**please **_be __unlocked_.' It was.

She pulled the door shut after her as quickly and quietly as possible, locking it behind her then ducked onto the floor board, tucking her curled body as far underneath the dash as she could, thankful, for what would probably the first and last time, for her small build. She forced her body into stillness, or as close as she could get anyways, there was no stopping the occasional tremor from her abused legs and she winced at the thought of the cramps she would have tomorrow from the lactic acid build-up from pushing herself to outrun the _Brainless __Behemoth_. A sudden angry growl had her whole body tensing, taut as a drawn bowstring, breath caught and eyes widened, her ears strained for even the slightest sound.

She heard several things, her own rapid and erratic heartbeat, a strangely pleasant buzzing hum from the car, the heaving breaths of _Sir __Brainless __Behemoth_, and his heavy, slightly faltering she noted with a cruel pleasure, footsteps as he checked the doors as she had done. He let out another growl and what sounded like a low curse in a language that sounded suspiciously like Italian as the car suddenly rocked slightly and she realized he was sitting on the Camaro's hood, grumbling. He stopped suddenly, releasing a low chuckle, and she heard his footsteps again, circling around to the car's driver's side and she felt her face pale with the realization that she had not thought to lock the car's other door. There was a sudden motion as the man yanked on the door handle and she winced in sympathy for the whine-like sound the car seemed to emit at his action, he circled the car and repeated the action on the other door letting out what was definitely a curse when he found this door locked as well. He went back to sitting on the hood and she recognized the muted taps of a cell phone having its buttons pushed with extra viciousness.

There was a pause and then his voice filled the air, he was speaking that language that she was pretty sure was Italian at this point and then there was another pause and, to her surprise, she found that he was suddenly speaking English. "She got away, not much I could do, short of shooting her anyways, and I know better than to do that, no damaging the merchandise." Her blood ran cold at that casual statement, not even the indignation of being '_merchandise_' could overcome the cold terror caused by the realization that this person was armed and, consequently, could have killed her at any time, still could kill her. "Look, the brat got away; can you just come get me? Girl ran like a greyhound and I'm practically on the other side of the city now. I still don't see why we didn't just grab her at her home; it would have been much easier if you ask me… Yeah, I know you didn't but you're also not the one she ran into the damn ground… Just come get me."

All the energy in her body evaporated, gone like smoke but without the lingering smell. They knew where she _**lived**_? Why were they after her to begin with? And that ever panicky thought, '_He __could __have __killed __me!_'

She listened with what felt like every atom in her body, heard as he shuffled impatiently from the Camaro's hood, heard as a car pulled up with the squeaky-screech of a vehicle in need of a brake pad change, heard as he got in with an exchange of unpleasant words and they left. And suddenly she was crying, sobbing so hard her body trembled and she had to gasp in each strangled breath until slowly, and quite without her noticing, the world faded from her view and she fell into an exhausted slumber.

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><p><strong>AN: If you couldn't tell, the two B.B.s were Bumblebee and the Brainless Behemoth, but I figure you could tell that already, anywho, hope you liked it. Review please. Reviews are love, I needs de love.**


	3. McCreepy And The Iceman

**Thank you Mytical-Mist-Devil, Luna636, and Astraea Maehanla for your reviews, they make me happy! ^_^ Anywho, here's chapter 3, hope you like! Oh, before I forget, there's some cussing in this chapter, you have been warned. ^_^**

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><p>Project Mockingbird<p>

Chapter 2: McCreepy And The Iceman.

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><p>=====Story Start=====<p>

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><p>Her cell phone ringing is what woke her up initially; trying to move is what woke her up completely. "Oh <em><strong>man<strong>_." She felt the pinpricks of pain burning into her brain from what felt like every nerve-ending in her body. Her feet hurt, her legs hurt, her back hurt, her head hurt, _**hell**_, even her _**eyes**_ hurt. She stifled a moan of agony as she shifted out from under the car's dash and literally pulled herself up onto the seat, her arms being perhaps the only thing that _**didn**__**'**__**t**_ hurt, though the one from the side she'd slept on was a bit stiff.

Of course, by the time she'd actually righted herself the phone had stopped ringing. She didn't do anything for a long moment, simply sat and breathed, then she pulled her phone from her pocket and stared at it, waiting. Not a moment later the screen lit up with the name '_Gail __the __Tattle-tale_' with a picture of a polar bear as the icon. She grinned and thumbed the speaker button on the screen and put it on the dash but didn't make a sound. There was a long moment of silence as she waited for the person on the other end of the line to realize that she'd picked up. "…Where are you?"

"Good to hear from you too, Abigail. Hey, have you stepped outside lately, it's lovely weather we're having. Would you believe I'm in the hottest car I've ever seen in my _**life**_? It's nice and sunny outside but not too hot. Do you know, I was almost kidnapped last night, it was great, guy ran me all the way across town, had a gun too, I thought I was gonna die. There's a stiff breeze too, not break tree limbs stiff, but more, you'll just have to resign yourself to a bad hair day, kinda stiff. Car's a slightly older model but it's in good condition, all it really needs is some TLC, a nice wash-down and a fresh paintjob and just a _**bit**_ of bodywork for the rust spots and it'll be good as new. Don't get me wrong, it's not the perfect day by any means but I've definitely lived through worse. He even _**wanted**_ to shoot me, I could tell by his tone of voice, it was probably 'cause I made him look like a fool, I mean-"

She had been completely ignoring the calls of, "…Nightingale. Nightingale. Nightingale! 'Gale! _'__Gale!_" that had been getting progressively louder the longer she spoke until Abigail finally shouted loud enough that the phone's speakers cut out partially. "_**Lyre! **__**Shut **__**up!**_" She did. "_**Thank **__**you**_. Now, let's try this again, where are you?"

"In a seat."

"Okay… Can you be a bit more specific?"

"In a car."

"And that car is where?"

"In an alley."

"Care to elaborate on that?"

"Well, it's kinda in the middle, see, I can tell because there's about the same amount of space on both sides and-"

"_**Lyre!**_"

"…I have absolutely no idea."

"…" There was a heavy sigh from the other end of the phone and a small click sound indicating that she had been put on speaker, that or Abigail had hung up on her. "Why don't you start from the beginning, I think that would be best." Oh, nope, she's still on the phone.

"Okay. Someone tried to kidnap me last night…" She stopped, waiting for a response, there were gasps from the background, suggesting that, yes, she was on speaker.

"And?"

" '_And?_' What do you mean? '_And?_' That's not how a best friend should respond to such things. You're supposed to be frantic, out of your mind with concern. You shouldn't be asking '_And?_' You should be all, '_Oh __my __gosh, __are __you __alright? __He __didn__'__t __hurt __you __did __he? __Are __you __scared? __Don__'__t __be __scared. __Everything __will __be __alright, __we__'__ll __get __him. __Don__'__t __you __worry; __he __won__'__t __get __away __with __this._' You shouldn't be asking, '_And?_' I mean, geez, why am I friends with you again?"

"…That is one of the great mysteries of the universe, right along-side with '_What __killed __the __dinosaurs?_' And as for comforting you, you seem to be doing well enough on your own, took the words right out of my mouth and everything. But anyways, back to your report?"

"…Did you just act sarcastic? Were you just being sarcastic? Guys, please tell me I don't have a head wound I'm not aware of, was she just being sarcastic?" Lyre's grin was wide enough that it looked like it would split her face into two. There were sounds of surprised confirmation from the phone as the others chimed in.

"Lyre, seriously, what's your report?" There was a testiness to Abigail's voice, suggesting that she was no longer amused with Lyre's behavior.

"…Fine." And so give her report she did, although there was simply no stopping the sarcasm and snark that seemed to pour forth from her brain like a flood and all-in-all her friend seemed to pay it no mind, but then again that could have something to do with the many years of practice she had under her belt. "-and next thing I know my phone is ringing and I realize I fell asleep in the Camaro."

"So, let me get this straight." It was a male voice coming from the speakers now, one that caused her to scowl. "You, that's _**you**_ mind, the reigning queen of violence and anger, the person who has a freaking _pissed-off-__'__o-meter_ posted outside of her office so that there's some kind of warning system set up to indicate what your temper is like at that moment, the chick that takes the term _**confrontational**_ to a whole new extreme? You expect us to believe that you _**ran**_ from a fight? A fight you didn't even cause in the first place? You _**do**_ see where I'm having problems with this tale, don't you?"

She growled in annoyance, scowl deepening. "Hey, Johnson, how about you shove it where the sun don't shine and let the adults go back to talking? Sound good?"

"Oh please, since when did you qualify as an adult? Your maturity level is somewhere alongside a grade-schooler's. You're a brat."

"_**Johnson**_!" Abigail was ignored.

"Oh yeah Tony? Well at least I'm not a _**bitch**_."

"_**Lyre**_!" And again her admonition went thoroughly unheeded.

"Hey, you want to say that to my _**face**_? _**Huh**_!"

"_**Happily**_!"

"_**That**__**'**__**s **__**it**_! Johnson, get out of here! You aren't helping matters. And as for you Lyre, you and I are having a talk when you get in about this thing called _**professionalism**_!" And there was a rather decisive click and the line went dead.

There was silence for a very long moment as Lyre simply stared at her cell phone blankly, almost as though she didn't quite register what had just happened, and then she let out a vicious snarl and slammed her fists down onto her thighs. She repeated the action several times before she seemed to realize what she was doing and stopped, clamping her white-knuckled hands around her knees instead. She gasped, much as she had the night before, and began to cry, which only served to make her that much angrier, her fingernails digging into her bare knees in a vain attempt to control herself. "…Damn it all. …Damn it! …Damn-it-damn-it-_**damn-it**_! Why am I always like this? I hate it! I _**hate**_ it!" She nearly shot through the roof when her phone started ringing again, her teary eyes turned towards it but she didn't pick it up. It cycled through twice before she got fed up and answered; her voice came out sounding rather strangled from both her frustration and her tears. "_**What**_!"

"…Are you alright Lyre?" It was Abigail, her voice was no longer angry and reproachful as it had been at the end of that disaster of a call, instead it was soft and soothing.

She almost didn't answer, she didn't want to talk about it; she almost hung up then and there, but she knew that wouldn't solve anything. "…I'm fine."

"…Is that so?" A mental image of Abigail giving her a deadpan stare with one eyebrow raised in disbelief tore a halfhearted chuckle from her throat. "Because I know you, Lyre. I know how you think and how you act and, more importantly in this instance, I know how you _**react**_. What I know about you leads me to believe that you are not, in point of fact, _**fine**_."

"…I was scared." Her voice was small, like an uncertain child's, and her tears sped up slightly, she bit her lower lip to try to stop her voice from wavering. "I was scared. I didn't know what was going on and then I found out that he had a gun and I was even _**more**_ scared. How pathetic is that? Big, bad, Lyre Nightingale was so scared that she _**cried**_. I can hear what they'll be saying about me already."

"Yeah? Well, let them say what they want, they don't know anything about you. As for being scared, it's a perfectly normal reaction to a situation like that. I'd be concerned if you _**weren**__**'**__**t**_ scared, like, send you to a _**psychiatrist**_ concerned." Lyre snorted in laughter, imagining how well _**that**_ would go over. "Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Now then, what was it you said? '_Everything __will __be __alright, __we__'__ll __get __him_. _Don__'__t __you __worry; __he __won__'__t __get __away __with __this_.' That's it right?"

"Yep. That's what I said." Her tears had slowed and she smiled.

"Well then, everything will be alright, we'll get him. Don't you worry; he won't get away with this. But you know, I could use your help with it. A picture would make it much easier; do you think you can hack the nearby surveillance feeds to get a still frame that we can run through Interpol's facial recognition?"

This time she laughed in full, tears finally stopping altogether as she sat a little straighter in the seat. "Is that a genuine question or were you trying to be funny?"

"Good. You come straight to the office, I know you have an overnight bag under your desk, and we can get this straightened out before lunch time."

"Oh, this is why I'm friends with you, now I remember. Thanks 'Gail."

"You're welcome 'Gale."

She laughed again.

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><p>*Two Days Later*<p>

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><p>So, it took a bit longer than lunch and it turned out to be slightly more problematic than just some guy trying to abduct Lyre. In fact, it turned out that the facial recognition had a big red flag on him, as in a, related to the mafia, kind of big red flag, but she wasn't really thinking about that at the moment. No, she was thinking about the creeper in the front seat of the black SUV she was currently sitting in, the creeper who was talking to the two teenagers that were sitting next to her, the creeper that she <em><strong>really<strong>_ wanted to hit. "So, uh… LadiesMan217, that is your eBay username, right?" Lyre snorted in amusement and glanced at the poor soul that was currently being humiliated in front of the girl he so very obviously liked; he reminded her of a puppy, or maybe a gerbil, something small and fuzzy and generally helpless anyways. He was quite clearly panicking.

"Yeah, b-but you know, it was a type-o… and I ran with it." The girl did not seem impressed with his stumbling recovery.

"You know." It was clear that Lyre was amused; her voice held suppressed laughter in it and she spoke in a slow, slightly mocking drawl. "You would have done better to say that one of your friends pulled a prank on you while you were making your account and you just didn't notice it until it was already finalized. I mean, nobody would actally _**believe**_ you, but at least you'd get some points for creativity."

"What do you make of this?" She made a face at the creeper who was simply talking over her as though she hadn't spoken at all, her urge to hit him was steadily climbing the longer she was in the car with him. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, that sounds like LadiesMan." There was a frustrated tone to the girl's voice but Lyre was didn't notice that, she was too busy listening to the recording that was playing and she felt her eyebrows lift in surprise. His car was _**alive**_? What exactly did he mean by that? She was brought from her thoughts when they started up this weird fake laughter that made her grimace in distaste.

And then the creeper spoke. "So what do you kids know about aliens, huh?"

"Oh, you mean, like a Martian? Like what, _**E.T.**_? No."

"It's an urban legend."

"Oh? And what about you girlie? What do you know about aliens?"

It took Lyre a moment to realize that he was talking to her but when she did she gave him one of her '_dangerous_' smiles. "What I _**know**_, McCreepy, is that if you seriously just put me in handcuffs and hauled me away because of _**aliens**_ you are _**so**_ screwed. And aside from Mr. Iceman, whom you have chilling out in your basement, I don't know a thing about aliens." It was interesting to watch as he turned an off shade of white from shock and horror. "As for coming into contact with them? Yeah, as if. I mean, I'd _**sooo**_ go down to have a chat with Mr. Iceman if giant cubes of robotic ice were my thing, unfortunately they're not, they're rather poor conversationalists you see, so it's safe to say that _**no**_, I have not chatted up any aliens of late."

The longer she spoke the more freaked he got, understandable, considering the fact that he didn't know who she was or how she had access to classified information like that. Next thing she knew, he had whipped out his _I-can-do-whatever-I-want-and-get-away-with-it_ badge and was threatening the girl's father with a life sentence in prison. Lyre had one thought: '_Yeah, __I __**really **__want __to __punch __him_.'

And then the world erupted in an explosion of glass.

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><p><strong>'Cause we all know that Simmons is a creeper. Anywho, that was Chapter 3: McCreepy And The Iceman. I hope you liked it! ^_^ So, toss me some reviews, yeah? Reviews are love! And ah needs de love! ^_^<strong>


	4. Lyre The Liar And The Baby Bot

**Thanks to Astraea Maehanla for the review, to be honest, I laughed as I wrote that part, and thanks to those that favorited/alerted. Here's chapter three of Project Mockingbird, in this chapter we learn a bit more about Lyre and her friend Abigail, yay. ^_^ Anywho, I hope y'all enjoy, tell me what you think of the story so far, yeah?**

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><p>Project Mockingbird<p>

Chapter 3: Lyre The Liar And The Baby Bot.

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><p>*Project Mockingbird Headquarters*<p>

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><p>Abigail Drake was called the Ice Queen for a reason, her unwavering control over her emotions often gave the illusion that she actually had none, but that's just what it was, an illusion. This moment was no different from any other; she stalked through the workshops with her usual sharp precision, showing nothing but calm professionalism while her friend was M.I.A. But she wasn't calm, oh no, she was worried, very worried; her best, truest, and quite possibly only friend was missing and she had no idea where she might be. Cell and landlines had inexplicably gone down hours ago so she had no way of contacting Lyre to make sure that she was alright, that she was safe, and that made her very, very concerned. It didn't help that she knew her friend was suffering from the trauma of the incident from a few days ago.<p>

Lyre was an inherent liar.

It was that simple.

She pretended to be fine; she was rude and abrasive and sarcasm seemed to just pour forth from her brain without thought. Abigail recognized her behavior for what it _**really**_ was though, a coping mechanism, a defense protocol; the angrier Lyre appeared, the more she was feeling _**helpless**_. Hurt, lost, afraid, alone, all of her negative emotions caused the same response, she reacted the same way every time, violently. Her snark was a part of her daily behavior, yes, but that was because she used it like a shield, keeping people at arm's length, keeping them from getting under her skin. Keeping herself from making a connection.

Because she was _**afraid**_.

Afraid of loving, afraid of even simply caring, because she knew better than most people the pain of losing someone important to you. She saw it as dangerous, the giving a part of herself away to someone else. Life was unpredictable, uncontrollable, there were situations she couldn't plan for, contingency plans she couldn't make. And as far as she was concerned that simply meant an ending of pain and loss that she wasn't ready to deal with.

Abigail could still remember the day Lyre's parents died, would probably remember that day 'til the day _**she**_ died, it had been the day that Project Mockingbird had _**really**_ been born. The Project had just been an idea before then, something they had concocted after they hacked into Abigail's father's computer, he worked for the government and they were going through their teenage rebellion phase where any withheld information was a personal affront, it was just his luck that one of them was a skilled hacker, and found a file giving the detailed specifications of an alien robot, or N.B.E. 1, that was in forced cryostasis at the Sector Seven headquarters in the Hoover Dam. They immediately had the same thought, _they __were __going __to __build __a __robot_, so they did. It was to be smaller than the one from the file, under half that size, and they weren't anywhere near done when the accident happened.

Lyre never talked about it, about what she saw during the car crash but whatever it was had left her with a deep rooted fear of things out of her control. Once she recovered from her concussion and broken arm she had immediately started working on the robot at an unhealthy pace, forgoing sleep and even food at times, she literally lived in the lab. And she told Abigail that the robot would be different from others being developed elsewhere, that it wouldn't function based on programs, it would operate as a second body, only functioning when it received commands directly from her mind. They failed at first. A twitch here, a thrum there, but nothing truly noteworthy.

Until they came up with the Link-In system.

Abigail had been terrified by the results of that event, they had turned it on and she had watched in awe as the robot's optics flickered on and it, no, _**Lyre**_, sat up and looked around, she had glanced at Lyre's human body and panicked when she realized that Lyre's chest wasn't moving. She reached over and ripped the Link-In system from Lyre's head, and Lyre had shot up, screaming an absolute _**agony**_ as she was forced back into her own body.

That was the day they realized that their Link-In system created a complete transfer of consciousness. It was also the day that Lyre stopped aging.

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><p>*Back To Our Favorite Snark Spewing Femme*<p>

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><p>"Way to make a liar out of me." The yellow bot Lyre was currently admonishing just made a cute little whirling sound and tilted his head to the side in confusion; she didn't bother with explaining herself. "Thanks by the way, for saving me, I mean." How she knew that the bot she was currently standing next to was the very same Camaro from a few days ago was beyond her, but she did and his '<em>tilt <em>_of __the __hat_' action only confirmed her suspicions. She had gotten over her initial, and expected, '_freak __out_' moment rather quickly, probably unhealthily quickly but whatever, and was currently chatting with, her now official favorite alien, Bumblebee. 'Course it was kinda hard to do considering the fact that he couldn't talk back but once she saw him pee on Simmons there was no going back, she just _**had**_ to be friends with the bot, communication problems be damned.

And he seemed to not mind the small femme chattering up at him with such a wide range of emotion at all; rather, he seemed to enjoy it, glancing down at her every few moments with a smile. Her reaction, upon coming to a sudden, unplanned stop and having the roof of the vehicle she was riding in be torn off, was not quite what most would expect.

She did not scream, she did not cry, she did not faint, no, she stared for one very, _**very**_ long moment, let out a low whistle, and said, quite clearly and coherently, '**Holy ****shit**.' Then she abruptly offered her hand to shake, which was difficult to do since she was still in handcuffs though she did manage to maneuver so that her hands were in front of her, and introduced herself to each and every one of the Autobots, being sure to mention that she was not with '_McCreepy_' in any way, shape, or form. Then she laughed 'til there were tears falling from her eyes when Bumblebee '_lubricated_' on Simmons and went to stand by his side, from which she had not moved since, and began talking animatedly up at him.

"How long have you guys been o-" She was abruptly cut off by the sounds of inbound vehicles and a shouted warning from one of the 'bots, she didn't really see which one, and she stood somewhat awkwardly as everyone sprang into sudden action, not knowing quite what to do with herself since she didn't want to presume to be accepted enough that they would want her with them. She brightened immediately when the transformed 'bee offered his open door and without an ounce of hesitation she plopped into the passenger seat and looked around and, despite the pressing situation outside, said the first thing that came to mind.

"Not bad, but I liked the style of your other model better."

* * *

><p>*Some Time Later*<p>

* * *

><p>Lyre was pissed, that's <em><strong>Pissed<strong>_ with a capitol '_P_'. There was an underlying level of satisfaction present but it was overpowered by her anger and worry. Worry, because McCreepy's men had taken Bumblebee; anger, because McCreepy's men had taken _**Bumblebee**_. It didn't help that all her aches and pains seemed to have flared up; she had small lacerations from the glass being shattered when Optimus grabbed the car, a bruise from hitting her head on the car door when they spun out, and road burn from when 'bee had had to dump her out on the ground so he could save Sam and Mikaela from death or severe injury. "What'd they get you for?"

Her attention turned to the others on the 'copter with her when the conversation finally grabbed her attention. "I bought a car. Turned out to be an alien robot. Who knew?"

Her lips pursed when they turned to look at her expectantly. "You want the long or the short version?" They laughed, it was weak and half-hearted but it was still laughter, until they realized that she wasn't joking, then they stared. "Hmm, seeing as we don't know how long this is gonna take I think it's best that I give you the short version. Part of it is why I'm still in handcuffs even though they're not." She gestured to the teens she'd come to know as Sam, a.k.a. _small __and __fuzzy __and __generally __helpless_, and Mikaela, a.k.a. _the __chick __who __helped __her __out __of __her __handcuffs __the __first __time __around_. "Basically, I _Kangaroo __Kicked_ McCreepy in the gut." And that was where the feeling of satisfaction came from, having finally hit the creepy asshole formally known as Simmons, a.k.a. McCreepy, as Lyre clearly preferred to call him.

They continued to stare.

She laughed nervously and shifted under their gaze, feeling an upwelling of discomfort, she decided to elaborate just a _**bit**_ more. "You know how kangaroos kick, right? They brace their weight back on their tail and jut both feet out at their target; 'course technically they're trying to disembowel, not kick, their victims of choice. I don't have a tail but I _**did**_ have a guy holding my arms, and McCreepy was standing _**right**_ there in front of me, so I jerked around a little so that _Captor __Guy_ would tighten his grip and then I jumped in the air and planted my feet, heels first, into McCreepy's stomach. Got a headache out of it, my scull made contact with my captor's chin, but it was _**so**_ worth it. It would have been more satisfying to break his nose though, I think. Oh well, too late now." It wasn't truly but without something openly provoking her, aside from his ever present creepy creeper-ness, she wouldn't really be justified and she wasn't particularly looking forward to the idea of imprisonment for assaulting a government agent.

No matter how much he deserved it.

"As for initially? Apparently the car I took shelter in several days ago, well, it was his car so I reiterate: _Turned __out __to __be __an __alien __robot_. _Who __knew_?"

After that she just sort of… zoned out for a while again, coming to her senses long enough to stay as far away from the edge of the Hoover Dam as she could manage, feeling that particular tingling, plummeting sensation in her stomach that she always got from being too close to open heights. That awareness was how she managed to recognize the second government agent talking to Sam. "Banachek, what a surprise to see you here, you don't usually show your face to the outside world. I'd shake your hand but your idiot coworker has me in cuffs."

"Nightingale, what are you doing here?" There was no denying his surprise at the sight of her, her second sentence seemed to fly right by him.

"Arrested for unknowingly coming into contact with an alien robot, that and getting into a fight with Simmons, personally I think the latter had more influence on things. He seemed _**very**_ surprised by some of my knowledge, am I not as well known in Sector Seven as I originally thought or is he just particularly ignorant?"

He started at the word _arrested_, his eyes suddenly sweeping over her and taking in her pulled back arms, a scowl that did not bode well for McCreepy appeared on his face as he gestured for one of the nameless grunts to release her. "Ignorance I hope, as idiocy is the only other option. You and Drake are very well known around headquarters, in fact I'd keep who you are a secret or else you might have scientists assaulting you with their questions and tests that they want to run on you."

She grinned as she rubbed her sore wrists and nodded her thanks, vaguely following the conversation as they made their way inside into a large chamber holding a being she'd known about for years. "So this is the abominable snowman… is anyone else picking up on the super freaky evil vibes just rolling off him? …No? Just me, huh?" The last bit had been tacked on due to her annoyance at being completely ignored by absolutely _**everyone**_. She shivered, feeling as though his gaze was piercing right into her soul and watched the amusing scene of McCreepy attempting to assert his nonexistent superiority over Sam, who was displaying his obviously enhanced understanding of what all was going on. She caught the tail-end of the argument, feeling rather lost but not too altogether concerned. "You guys know where it is, don't you?" And they were moving again, first to a small room with a viewing window looking out on the biggest, and oddly prettiest, cube she'd ever clapped eyes on and then to a smaller room she decidedly did _**not**_ like. It reminded her of a vault and the fact that the walls were covered with strange scratches didn't put her at ease, even the comments about them being from Wolverine could only cheer her up so much though she voiced her agreement with Glen.

And got a dirty look from Simmons, who she somehow managed to unfortunately stand beside.

"That's very funny. Anybody have any mechanical devices? Blackberry? Key alarm? Cell phone?" She winced as he yelled practically in her ear and glared. In part to be obnoxious and in part because she wanted a new phone, Abigail wouldn't let her buy one until something definitive happened to the one she had currently, and she had a feeling that any object involved would not survive its first meeting with the box-of-doom, it just gave off the sort of feel, she shoved her cell phone in before McCreepy could put Glen's in, giving him a cheeky grin for good measure. She felt a cold horror when her phone suddenly burst into a living being, one that was trying desperately, _**violently**_, to escape.

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><p><strong>I've always thought that the people who say to read and review at the end of the chapter are silly, I mean, I get asking for a review, but the read part just doesn't make sense to me, 'cause you know, if they're at the bottom of the page, in all likelihood, they've probably read the chapter. Speaking of reviews, please? Please review; give this poor, pathetic writer who has no excitement in her life something to look forward to? Remember, reviews are love, and ah needs deh love. No, seriously I'd like at least... oh two reviews before I post the next chapter, see I'm reasonable, I'm not asking for a bunch, just two and I'll be happy. ^_^ Anywho, 'til next time, BlackMoonWhiteSky.<strong>


	5. Saving A Life, Avoiding A Battle

**Now see here, this hurts. :P I asked for just two reviews before I posted my next chapter but here it is and not even one review to show. You're lucky I'm not the type to hold chapters hostage.**

**Tom: That's just 'cause you haven't started getting discouraged yet, what with this being a relatively new story and all.**

**There's the sound of a jumping record and the lights come back on revealing a green eyed, black haired young man about twenty years old, wearing a black t-shirt with a panda bear on it and blue jeans, leaning relaxed against the wall, feet bare, arms crossed. There is a stomping heard from somewhere and a door that wasn't there before slams open revealing a brown haired, brown eyed girl of nineteen with an angry glare on her face. She stalks towards the boy and glares up at him, being only five feet tall to his six-two, she is wearing an obnoxious white t-shirt with a pink cat on it depicting the words '_hello __dog __breath_' and turquoise leopard print p-j pants, she is also bare foot.**

**Iris (dat's me by the way): Shut up Tom. Nobody asked you.**

**Tom: *shrugs* Just sayin', you're really sensitive about that kind of stuff. Pretty sad if you ask me.**

**Iris: *eyebrow twitches* What part of '_Nobody __asked __you_' did you not get? *turns back to audience* Oh, right, I'm sure you're all wondering what the heck is going on. This is Tom, Toumas Rex actually; he's my really bitchy muse. Also quite possibly the biggest pain-in-the-ass to ever reside in my head. Ignore him. He's a jerk.**

**Tom: You made me.**

**Iris: You were born from the nothingness and hijacked my brain; I had nothing to do with it.**

**Tom: You know you love me.**

**Iris: If you don't shove it I will tie you down and dye your hair pink.**

**Tom: *shivers***

**Iris: Anywho, please enjoy the latest chapter and give me feedback, I need to know if you guys like it. Plus, reviews make me happy. ^_^**

**Tom: And that's saying something.**

**Iris: …*hits Tom with empty water bottle***

* * *

><p>Project Mockingbird<p>

Chapter 4: Saving A Life, Avoiding A Battle.

* * *

><p>=====Story Start=====<p>

* * *

><p>Lyre frowned deeply, ignoring the strange shock she'd felt from the hand touching the box, and turned to stare disbelievingly at Simmons. Was he <em><strong>mad<strong>_? Bringing things to life without any kind of previous thought or consideration, playing at being some sort of god, they were insane, completely wacko. Her eyes studied him intently, furiously, and his words barely registered, she ignored the little robot that was attempting to escape and the others' reactions to it, all her focus was on reading the person before her.

She read the way his intent suddenly shifted and her shock and horror turned quickly into that ever so familiar emotion, rage. She let out a growl and lunged, ripping the trigger control from his hands. Everyone turned at the sound of his startled yell and her incensed response, ignoring even the strange creature in favor of watching their interaction.

"Are you crazy? What do you think you're doing Girl?"

She gave an animalistic snarl, teeth bared in warning. "How dare you. How fucking _**dare**_ you! You think you can just bring it to life, show it off like some kind of prize, then _**kill**_ it? Do you value life at _**all**_? It's not like zapping a bug! It's _**sentient**_! Alive and thinking and feeling! You have no _**right**_ to kill it. The technology that brought it to life isn't yours, the phone it's formed from isn't yours, it's not under your jurisdiction, it's not even the same species as you! You have- _**Absolutely**_! _**No**_! _**Fucking**_! _**Right**_!" Then she turned her back on him, ignoring his shocked stuttering response, her heart angry and yet filled with a strange sadness, the urge to cry nearly overwhelming her senses. For a moment she simply stared at the creature, taking it in, watching as it cracked the walls of its clear prison, its little red eyes angry. Her heart reached out to it, a feeling of understanding filling her.

Because she did understand. She did. The anger was something she understood, because she knew its anger was caused by its fear. Its feeling of helplessness. If there was anything she could understand it was that.

"Command Prompt Mode: Initiate. Command: File Search: Language: English. Command: File Download." They were staring at her again, Lyre could feel it. She didn't care. She continued to speak to the small robot as it paused, joints stiffening and eyes flickering before returning to trying to escape. "Behavior has been deemed unacceptable. Command: Desist Immediately. Failure to comply will result in immediate termination." And to the startlement of all but her, it did. The small, angry, frightened 'bot stopped, though it kept its weapons handy, and turned to face her with its still red eyes.

They stared at one another for what seemed to be a very long time.

Without shifting her gaze away from his, somehow it seemed to be a male, optics she reached out to the small door of the box, pausing with her fingertips just brushing against it. "You will stay with me or they will destroy you and as I am partial to keeping up my record of having never been shot, accidentally or otherwise, I will not attempt to stop them." And before any of the humans could really understand what it was that she intended to do she opened the door. There were shouts of surprise and alarm but she did not bat an eye as the small robot lunged for the opening and scuttled quickly up her arm to the place where shoulder met neck and settled there like a bird, back pressed to her flesh and optics roving in the three remaining open directions. With the being safely away from the box she dropped the control she'd relieved Simmons of and reversed until _**her **_back was to the wall, much like the 'bot had done, and allowed a grim, victorious smile to crawl across her face.

That was when the shouting _**really**_ started.

"What the hell man?"

"_**That **__**thing **__**is **__**loose**_!"

"Are you crazy?"

"_**Shoot **__**it**_! _**Shoot **__**it**_!"

"What are you thinking?"

"_**Holy **__**crap**_! _**Somebody **__**shoot **__**it**_!"

"What is wrong with you?"

"_**Why **__**isn**__**'**__**t **__**anyone **__**shooting **__**it**_?"

And then rather collective variations of, "Shut up, Glen!" for his franticly frightened demands that it be destroyed.

Simmons stepped forwards, his face a mask of command and fury. "What you just did was extremely foolish and dangerous. Hand it over. We'll destroy it properly and maybe if you're lucky this slip up of yours can be overlooked."

Her face did not change, though a hand lifted protectively in front of the 'bot. "I don't think so."

"I said hand it over. That was an order."

She sneered at the demand, body language screaming her defiance with every fiber of her being. "You forget yourself. I don't work for you, Simmons. As I'm sure you've already learned quite painfully via reaming, I am not someone you can bury in the legal system with bogus charges, never to see the light of day, I hold too strong a position of power. Nor can you give me any kind of orders, for despite my particular position I do not actually work _**for**_ the government, thus I am not under your jurisdiction. _**You**_. _**Have**_. _**No**_. _**Authority**_. And on top of all that, he's not a threat to you."

The expression of incredulousness was rather hard to miss, she would have found it mildly amusing were the situation different. "Not a threat? Not a _**threat**_! What part of giant alien robots do you not understand?"

"The part where he actually _**falls**_ under that category. He's neither giant nor alien. I mean, look at him!" Her hand pulled away so that the little 'bot was once more visible to everyone though it still hovered protectively, ready at any moment to cover him again. "He's tiny. Even though he _**looks**_ alien he was _**made**_ by humans, wrong and irresponsible though their actions were." She sent a rather pointed glare to Simmons and Banachek. "He's completely harmless, he doesn't want to hurt anyone."

"Did you see? Did you see what he did to the box?"

"Oh, and you expect me to believe that if you were to suddenly come into being, all of your cognitive abilities intact but not even the slightest idea about what is going on, to find yourself completely trapped and at the center of attention of several beings, that are many times larger than yourself, who are having varied but quite strong reactions to your presence that you wouldn't completely freak out and try to escape? 'Cause I don't know about you, but his reaction is about the same that mine would be." There was a shuffling amongst them and some faces held guilty, though reluctant, understanding. She smiled grimly. "That's what I thought. As for being in contact with them, I'm sure that was your next point, right? I reiterate: _made __by __humans_. Even if he can reach the others, which I kind of doubt he can without being given the proper frequencies, there's still the matter of there being two separate factions operating on Earth at present. Since he has no clue what is going on it is highly unlikely that he'd just align himself without proper data on the situation. After all, he could easily contact a being that would destroy him without a second thought. Kind of like you assholes." Her voice darkened near the end of her little tirade but then she smiled brightly. "But anywho, none of that matters at present. Banachek, I take full responsibilities for Ein, as a senior member of Project Mockingbird."

He nodded his acceptance after a brief moment of hesitation and her smile widened even farther; no one paid any mind to the grumbling McCreepy. "If you're quite certain about this then I will allow it, but you better hope nothing happens."

"Of course Ein will behave. Don't you trust me?" Her voice held a teasing lit and the others that knew her for more than a few minutes were quite relieved to hear her acting more like herself, the heavy seriousness seemed to dissipate with Banachek's allowance.

"Ein?" Although it was Sam who asked the question the others found themselves curious as well.

"Well, to tell you the truth, even though it was McCreepy who said it, calling him the '_itty __bitty __Energizer __Bunny __from __Hell_' seemed rather appropriate, if a touch long. Unfortunately, it also makes for a really crappy acronym. So I decided to call him Ein, that's _E_-_**I**_-_N_ not _E_-_N_ or just _N_, for short." She shrugged her shoulders to show her nonchalance about the whole thing. "It worked for me. What do you think? Does the name Ein sound good to you?" The questions were directed to the mini 'bot pressed to the side of her neck and to her delight he made a sound of agreement. Her smile was so bright it seemed almost blinding and she pressed him closer to her for a brief hug. "Good to know! I'm Lyre by the way, Lyre Nightingale. Guess you and I shall be friends from now on. Heh, Abigail's gonna blow a gasket when she hears about this. I'm probably going to get another lecture about professionalism from her, can't say that I'm looking forward to that."

Before anyone could really respond to that there was a sudden tremor in the very floor and the lights flickered and swayed. There were muted sounds of alarm as the Secretary of Defense voiced what they all knew in their bones to be true. The Decepticons were here; they knew where the Cube was. Ignoring everything else that was going on Lyre grabbed one of the nearby scientists and forced them to give her directions to the medical area.

She was met at the door by a rather matronly figure whose questions and concerns she completely ignored; she didn't have time to deal with it. "You need to put me on a breathing machine, now." She turned to the 'bot on her shoulder, they had quickly come to an understanding and were already rather attached to one another, and gave him a warning look. "You stay as close to me as you can manage but hide, okay? I don't trust them not to grab you while I'm… preoccupied." Ein chittered a conformation and climbed from her shoulder and down behind a desk where he could be neither seen nor reached.

She sighed heavily and walked to the nearest available cot, her hand went to a necklace she wore about her throat, undoing it and pulling a strange pendant off the chain. The pendant, much to the surprise of the rather confused medic that had followed her from the doorway, twisted apart into three flat disks about two and a half inches in diameter that were connected to each other by several thin wires. She placed two of the three disks to her temples, where they stayed without assistance, and paused with the third in hand. It was slightly different from the other two which were completely flat, there was a small, rectangular protrusion on one of the faces which she popped open with her fingernail, revealing a rather unextraordinary on/off switch. She sighed and briskly flipped the switch to the 'on' position and returned the protective casing to its previous arrangement; she turned to the hovering nurse. "Under no circumstances are you to remove this device. Do you understand?"

The woman stared for one very long moment then slowly shook her head. "What's going on? What are you talking about?"

Lyre sighed again. "In just a moment I shall fall into an unexplainable coma and will cease to breath. You needn't worry, everything will be alright, and I _**will**_ recover. But you absolutely _**must **__**not**_ remove this device, if you do then things will go quite poorly and that's not something we can risk happening. Now then, here goes nothing." She inhaled deeply before placing the final disk at the base of her skull at the back of her head.

Her body collapsed instantly, all tension left in her muscles completely gone, eyes rolled up in the back of her head, and, just as she said, body no longer drawing breath.

The poor medic freaked.

* * *

><p>It would hurt, she knew it would. There were things left unrepaired, damages still unfixed. That knowledge didn't help. It didn't make the pain go away.<p>

She screamed.

* * *

><p>Tony Johnson and Lyre Nightingale had what could be loosely termed a rather strange working relationship. But then again, anything to do with Lyre Nightingale and Abigail Drake was strange. So that was probably why he found himself in her private workroom, staring at her robot form.<p>

A casual observer would think the two hated one another, they certainly fought often enough, physically as well as verbally, to make it hard to believe otherwise, but they didn't, not really. There was rage, most assuredly, but that had nothing to do with how they felt and everything to do with how they acted. There was yelling and fighting and heated looks and chilly silences but it was how they did things, how they fed off of one another's energies. They were both poorly equipped to properly interact in social environments, Tony couldn't be a team player if it killed him and Lyre hurt too much to want to care, in a way they both could and couldn't relate to one another, and so they fought.

And so they communicated.

And so they cared.

Complicated and strange though it was, they cared.

Which was why Tony was in Lyre's workshop, staring at the missing scientist's most important project. It was in a half-finished state, parts removed, plating stripped. In her latest experiment Lyre had managed to cause a rock fall that crushed the lower left leg, caused structural damage to the chest cavity, and caused severe stress to the inner workings of both arms as well as some simple superficial damage such as dents in the rest of the body. She was lucky she didn't have her head caved in.

Nobody was entirely sure about what would happen if the robot forms '_died_' while still being inhabited by the consciousness of the users but it was collectively agreed upon that, whatever happened, it would not be a good thing by any stretch of the imagination. It was also collectively agreed upon that the reckless Lyre would be the first to demonstrate it, whatever it was.

How she'd managed to survive for four years behaving as she did was something of a base-wide mystery.

Tony was lost in his thoughts about the reckless woman and so he missed the subtle online-ing of robotic optics but nothing could distract him enough for him to miss the sudden high-pitched shriek of pain and the thrashing of a large metal body suffering from extreme agony. "Lyre? Lyre, where are you at? What's happening? Can you hear me?"

The screams stopped but the body continued to convulse with pain for a few moments longer before growing alarmingly still, the only sound that of heavy venting. Then exhausted optics turned to him and a scratchy voice strained with urgency. "Lock down the base. There's a battle about to happen, one we can't go anywhere near."

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah, I hated it when they killed the cell phone bot, can you tell?<strong>


	6. Aftermath

**Hey peoples! Here's chapter 5 of Project Mockingbird! Yay! Um, I may make some revisions to previous chapters because I have the Transformers books now but if I do I'll tell you so you don't have to worry about it for now. Speaking of the books, have any of you read them? I have a new favorite human, knocking Epps down to number two, his name is Petr Andronov, he's Russian. He's also a riot. I don't think he makes an appearance outside of _Transformers: __The __Veiled __Threat_ but, oh well, he's still funny.**

* * *

><p><strong>I shall give you a quote from the book:<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>"Cannot [Starscream] detect your Sparks?" Petr wondered aloud.<strong>

**"Much depends on distance, which internal perceptors are active at the time of seeking, and other factors," the leader of the Autobots explained. "To a certain degree our bodies also mask the Spark within. Can you hear the heartbeat of your neighbor?"**

**"Only when I place certain specimens of arachnid in their hands to be admired," the AI expert replied.**

* * *

><p><strong>See, funny.<strong>

**Anywho, I wanted to say thanks to Astraea Maehanla, jewel333, and Jeannette Hetfield for their reviews. And a special thanks to Luna636 for her _three_ reviews. Thanks you guys, it really does make me happy to see them. And thanks to those that alerted/favorited. Enjoy the latest chapter! ^_^ And as always, please review.**

* * *

><p>Project Mockingbird<p>

Chapter 5: Aftermath.

* * *

><p>Bumblebee was attempting to think about other things at the moment.<p>

Other things that had nothing to do with the absolute agony he was feeling as his body was simultaneously frozen and electrocuted. Things like Sam, his new little human friend. The boy was strange, even 'Bee could tell that much, jumpy and uncertain and unconfident but with an astounding amount of determination and drive. It hadn't truly set in for the boy just yet, the fact that this was a war, 'Bee could tell, he'd seen enough warriors in battle to know; despite the fact that Sam had already been attacked by a Decepticon he still had an eagerness about him, the kind all newly recruited soldiers seemed to have before they got their first taste of _**true**_ battle, of the carnage and destruction that that entailed. It probably helped that everything seemed to be happening all at once.

Then there was the femme.

Not Sam's Michaela, but rather, the other femme, the one named Lyre. She was… odd. Odd in a way that was completely different from the way that Sam was odd. She was small, even for a human, but her delicate structure was overshadowed by the sense of power she exuded. It wasn't soothing like Optimus' power, his was strong and silent and simply _**there**_, for her it was a raw kind of power, it was churning and volatile and blatantly _**dangerous**_, he didn't even realize humans could emanate such things the way Cybertronians could. She had taken the appearance of the Autobots extremely well, better even than Sam; in fact, it seemed that she knew about them already. Not the Autobots specifically but she certainly seemed aware of Cybertronians. Part of him momentarily wondered if she worked for these humans, the ones that were currently torturing him and had dared to take Sam and his family, but then he shook the thought away. He had a good feeling about her, had had it the moment he saw her slide around that corner and stare at him in shock, she was strong but fragile, angry but scared. There was something about her that he simply… liked. They would be good friends, given the opportunity, he could just tell.

Suddenly there was shouting and he wasn't being hurt anymore.

He brought out his cannon.

* * *

><p>Pain.<p>

_**Breathe**_.

Agony.

_**Don**__**'**__**t **__**scream**_.

The task of existing hurt.

_**Keep **__**calm**_.

It hurt like nothing else.

_**Everything **__**will **__**be **__**fine**_.

The only time she could remember hurting so badly had been…no, that was a different kind of hurt.

_**There **__**was **__**something **__**important**_.

It had been the kind of hurt that had held on.

_**Something **__**important **__**she **__**had **__**to **__**do**_.

Held on into the Forever.

_**If **__**only **__**she **__**could **__**remember**_.

And didn't let her go even in this painful oblivion.

_**It **__**was **__**something **__**about**_…

And she was reminded of it afresh…

_**Something **__**about**_…

Every time she heard…

_**About**_…

The silence.

_**What **__**was **__**it **__**about**_?

There was something missing.

_**If **__**only **__**she **__**could **__**remember **__**what **__**it **__**was **__**about**_!

An absence of life.

_**Life**_?

She would give anything to have it back.

_**Preserving **__**life**_?

She'd trade herself for it if she had to.

_**She **__**had **__**to **__**preserve **__**life**_.

But she couldn't.

_**Normally **__**she**__**'**__**d **__**fight **__**for **__**it**_.

It didn't work like that.

_**But **__**this **__**time **__**that **__**would **__**make **__**things **__**worse**_.

She wished it did.

"_Lock __down__ the base_. _There__'__s __a __battle __about __to __happen_, _one __we __can__'__t __go __anywhere __near_."

* * *

><p>*The Day After*<p>

* * *

><p>Tony was <em><strong>furious<strong>_.

He refused to accept Lyre's explanation, refused to even _**listen**_ to it. All he knew was that, by obeying her demand for a lockdown, they had missed their chance to do what it was that Project Mockingbird had been generated for. At least, what it had been _**officially**_ generated for. The reason the government allowed them to conduct this little experiment of theirs anyway.

To fight against the N.B.E.s, that was why he was involved.

That was why they were _**all**_ involved.

All except for Lyre and Abigail.

Mission City had been decimated and they hadn't lifted even a finger! What made it even worse in his mind was the fact that the Project Director actually _**agreed**_ with her judgment. Why? He just didn't understand it. He couldn't even yell at her for her decision, as she was still being held at some Sector Seven base and had pulled out of the Link as soon as she saw that he'd listened to her. Not that he could blame her for _**that**_; the infuriating women had created their artificial N.B.E. bodies to be built as close to the real thing, internally anyways, as possible, which included pain receptors. He half-way wondered if she had just passed out from the stress it put on her mind, the thought caused him to be concerned, but then he'd remember that he was still mad at her.

And he'd go back to pretending not to care.

* * *

><p>Simmons had had a very <em><strong>bad<strong>_ past two days and this-this-this… _**child**_ was a large part of it. Not Wickity, though that snot-nosed brat sure hadn't helped much. Lyre Ann Nightingale. Just thinking about her caused him to have a strong urge to go out and shoot the nearest living example of her namesake, if only to relieve some built up stress. But an action like that would be frowned upon and he already had the issue of some of his fellow agents whispering about his sanity, or lack thereof according to them, behind his back, he didn't need to add fuel to the fire. He just had to grit his teeth and bear it.

That's how it would have ended really, a few miserable days in his life that he could push to the back of his mind and not think about ever again. Maybe it would externalize itself as an aversion to certain avian specimens, or maybe he'd just yell at his subordinates for a while, but all-in-all it was something he'd get over. Given time.

Except he wasn't being given any time.

He wasn't allowed to be done dealing with her. What was worse: he had to be _**nice**_ to her. Him, nice to _**her**_. He wanted to wrap his fingers around her throat and just… wait. No that was a bad idea. That was one of those '_things __that __would __be __frowned __upon_'. Damn. His only consolation, he supposed, was that she looked about as happy to deal with him as he was to deal with her.

Misery loves company, after all.

"So, let me get this straight. They thought that you, of all people, would be a good choice to smooth my ruffled feathers? Are they _**mental**_?" She shifted, leaning her chair back on its back two legs and planting her hiking-boot clad feet up on the interrogation-room style table. He felt something within him twitch, she smiled knowingly and that whatever-it-was twitched harder.

Okay, so no strangling, but maybe he could just get her back for kicking him in the gut? He could just shove the table really hard and… He focused on her appearance and what all he knew about her, trying to distract himself.

She was _**exactly**_ five feet tall; she had been for the past seven years he remembered from reading her file, the one Banachek had shoved at him a few hours ago. No existing family, but she had lived with the Drakes up 'til about a year ago, when she had gotten her own apartment.

She was twenty-three years old, even though she looked exactly as she had at nineteen. Her hair was dark brown, cropped _**just**_ long enough to put most of it up into a high ponytail, and had a tendency to fall into her eyes, although she had no defined bangs. Her eyes were also brown but they were lighter than her almost-black hair, having flecks of copper to soften them, not that it actually _**softened**_ them, in fact, the color's metallic nature gave her glares an extra bit of steeliness.

He'd noticed.

Her taste in shoe wear gave the illusion that she spent quite a lot of time outdoors but her skin belayed that, it looked as though it had never seen the light of the sun. Her blue jeans were baggy, not because they were a few sizes too big, apparently she got the urge to pants**[1]** guys who wore that '_style_', but because she was simply too short and didn't bother with cuffing or hemming up the legs, she just let the fabric pool around her feet. Her choices in tops were equally unprofessional, t-shirts with various obnoxious sayings on them, today it was a simple white font on black fabric that read, "_Teller of untruths_,_ teller of untruths_,_ your trousers have combusted_!"**[2]**

He wondered if she knew ahead of time that she'd be dealing with the government.

She seemed to have an aversion to make-up but a love of jewelry. She wore three rings on her right hand and one on her left, all but one with stones of varying shades of blue, her ears were pierced many times over, almost all were small loops with the very bottom being equally simple studs, she had a bracelet of dark green jade beads on her left wrist and a necklace with a small amethyst star. All her jewelry was set in silver, he wondered if that was significant. Her fingernails were painted copper but it was chipped, she didn't care about keeping them in pristine condition. Her hands were small, just like the rest of her, and they, as well as the part of her arms closest to them, were marked with the occasional thin white scar or the thicker pink ones which were still fresh. And she seemed to be addicted to Altoids**[3]**, he knew this because it seemed that every five minutes she'd pull the damn container out of her pocket and pop another one, if it weren't for the overwhelming smell of peppermint that hit him every time he'd be suspicious of the substance, as it was he doubted he'd ever eat another mint again.

And the _**fidgeting**_!

Good _**God**_ the fidgeting.

It was like she couldn't sit still. If she'd been squirming he could accept it as her just being uncomfortable or whatever but she didn't squirm. She messed with the clasp on her bracelet. It made a clicking noise.

Open. _**Click**_.

Close. _**Click**_.

Open. _**Click**_.

Close. _**Click**_.

Open. _**Click**_.

Close. _**Click**_.

_**Click**_.

_**Click**_.

_**Click**_.

_**Click.**_

_**Click**_.

_**Click**_.

He wanted to shoot her.

* * *

><p>Ein liked his human. She was nice. To him at least. And she hated the human that wanted to kill him. He didn't like that human. And she was considerate. She knew his Command Prompt Mode functioned with English orders. But she still had him download the language. So that he could understand what he was being told to do. She was nice. Ein liked her. After she woke up she told him what was going on. About the big robots like him. The good ones and the bad ones. He didn't like the bad ones. They would hurt her if they could. He liked her. He didn't want anything to hurt her. And she protected him. He owed her. Not that she actually said that. It just made sense to him that way. And they were friends. She had told him that. Or at least. She said she wanted to be friends. He liked that idea. He wanted to help her. He like Lyre. She was nice.<p>

To him at least.

* * *

><p><strong>[1] You know what that means right? As in, walk up to them, grab the fabric covering the legs, and yank down. I really do have issues with that urge, only things stopping me is that one: I don't want my face anywhere near that area, and two: I don't want to see any more of their underwear than I do already. ^_^<strong>

**[2] This shirt exists, it can be found at my favorite online store. _ThinkGeek_. Enough said.**

**[3] Hello, my name is Iris and I have an addiction. Not just to _Altoids_, but also to _StarBurst_ mints. And dark chocolate… sometimes together.**

**I thought Ein should be a little simple in the beginning, after all, he _was_ just born. So simple seemed appropriate.**

**And geez, I had _waaaaay_ too much fun writing Simmons. I do that fidget thing too, drives my step-dad up the wall; sometimes I do it on purpose. ^_^**

**Anywho, this chapter was very up and down emotions-wise, sorry about that. Um, hope you liked it, please toss me a review! ^_^**


	7. Secrets And Offers Of Fealty

**Okiedokie, here's the next chapter of Project Mockingbird! *Dodges various projectiles while laughing nervously* I know it's really late and I'm very sorry it's just that at first I had writer's block (sort of, see, my brain knew what would happen in a few chapters but it was struggling with the in-between part that is, you know, kind of important no matter how much you don't care about it in comparison) then I had the issue of self-inflicted suffering. My Christmas presents this year are paintings for everyone, as in, I'm painting them. But yeah, anywho, I still wrote this chapter for y'all and I hope you enjoy it. FYI, the twins should be showing up within the next few chapters sooo…**

**Um, thanks to Luna636 for the review and a thanks to those that favorite/alerted. I do so wish you would take the time to give me some feedback, love-it/hate-it/think-I-should-give-up-on-it just something would be nice, please? (You can't see it but I'm totally giving you the puppy-dog look right now) Oh, and can anyone tell me the difference between Hits and Visitors, cause I have absolutely no clue.**

**Um, anywho, enjoy the newest chapter. ^_^**

* * *

><p>Project Mockingbird<p>

Chapter 6: Secrets And Offers Of Fealty.

* * *

><p>*A Few Days After The Battle Of Mission City*<p>

* * *

><p>Optimus Prime and Ratchet were not quite sure what to make of the four humans standing before them. They had already met one of the females, albeit briefly, and so her downright enthusiastic response to their presence, while slightly offsetting, was not wholly unexpected. The blatant hatred from one of the males, however, was. In fact, the glare he was emitting brought to mind a saying that Optimus had heard from the humans, '<em>If <em>_looks __could __kill_…' it was odd that there was absolutely no fear in his eyes what-so-ever, such intense hate like his usually stemmed from fear. The other female's reaction was just as odd, because, unlike her companions, she revealed no emotion at all, only a calm professionalism. The only even remotely normal reaction of the bunch came from the oldest person of the group; he had gone into a state of shock and for a moment Ratchet was concerned that the man would pass out.

The enthusiastic female, Lyre, grabbed ahold of his arm and led him to a chair, speaking words of encouragement that only he and the two Autobots with their sensitive audio receptors could hear. Once the fifty-two year old, Mr. Drake, was settled she went back to standing beside the calm woman, Abigail, and exchanging dark looks with Tony, the angry male, behind Abigail's back.

Abigail, either oblivious to their actions or pretending to be, wasted no more time, instead coming straight to the point. "We have something that you need to see, as it relates to your bio-technology. We believe you have a right to know about it."

"Well, _**some**_ of us do." The angry Tony interjected in a scathing tone, he was ignored, though the Autobots were fully aware of his outburst.

Lyre tore her glare away from Tony and looked at the suddenly wary 'bots, a seriousness in her eyes. "We would prefer that you keep it just between you two. If you will allow us to explain ourselves and present our proposition I'm sure you'll understand why we want it that way."

Optimus responded, voice as regal as ever. "In that case, lead the way."

* * *

><p>The Autobot Leader and Chief Medical Officer were stuck somewhere between alarm and admiration for what lay in front of them.<p>

Three, near perfect, faux-Cybertronian bodies.

There was an instinctive, ingrained sense of horror and regret at seeing those young bodies lying, without a spark of life, on their large metal tables, the feeling only made that much more powerful by the fact that two of said bodies were femmes. Two so very rare femmes. Intellectually there was nothing to be distressed about, they weren't dead because they were never alive to begin with, but that knowledge only went so far in controlling their emotional distress. And even if they overcame that emotional problem there was still the alarm stemming from the mere existence of those bodies.

Those human-made bodies.

Those human-made bodies that functioned as if they were Cybertronian.

"You _**built**_ these?" Only Optimus, who had spent many a century working and fighting and living alongside him, recognized the shock in Ratchet's voice for what it was.

Lyre bristled, hearing the shock but registering it as doubt instead. "Yes we did. Is that so hard to believe?"

"It's not so much unbelievable as it is extraordinary. Most humans cannot comprehend our make-up with any kind of clarity, nevertheless…" He ran yet another medical scan on the bots and felt just as surprised by the results as he was the first time. "Quite extraordinary."

One could almost _**see**_ her preen under his amazed tone and her ruffled feathers settled back into place as she shot a mischievous smirk in the 'bot's direction. "That's not even the cool part." She turned to Abigail, still with that mischievous smirk scrawled across her face. "May I do the honors?" Abigail hesitated for only the briefest moment before nodding her assent, a reaction the Autobots caught but decided they would contemplate at a later time, instead choosing to study Lyre's actions intently.

She grinned, moving to the other side of the ridiculously large room where there were three human sized cots laid out in a way that mirrored the metal tables, next to each cot was a set of identical medical equipment, most notably, a breathing apparatus. She slid into a cot with practiced ease, quickly and efficiently attaching the equipment to her person. The oxygen mask was the last thing to go on before she removed her pendant and made it split into three disks.

Ein was curious, he knew what was happening, he had seen her do it before and she'd explained what occurred on the other end but he'd never _**seen**_ that part, and that curiosity got the best of him as he scuttled quickly onto her stomach for a better view. He was met with many a startled gaze, all present had heard of the incident involving the use of the Allspark's energy to create a being, and they had heard of her reaction but they hadn't quite realized that that being was with her at the moment. She paused in her preparations to give Ein an encouraging pat, an action meant to tell everyone else that she knew he was there and that she was okay with that, she tossed in a threatening glare at them for good measure, warning them to lay off. She finished prepping and carefully placed the last disk in position. Optimus and Ratchet were alarmed to note that the human femme seemed to suddenly malfunction.

They were more alarmed to realize that the femme _**knew**_ she would malfunction.

A fact they realized when the machines at her side picked up where her body left off, taking up the slack.

There was a mechanical whirring behind them and they were astonished to see that one of the previously lifeless mechanical bodies was sitting up and grinning widely. "So what do you think? Like I said, wasn't even the coolest part."

It was lucky, really, that neither of the 'bots were prone to malfunctioning due to shock, otherwise there would have been a problem; as it was, they came pretty close.

* * *

><p>Lyre settled her back against the wall, an absent-minded expression on her face, and carefully, if mechanically, removed the medical equipment. She then proceeded to stretch and twist her body causing various joints to sound off with pops and crackles, she ignored the medical aids that had appeared to monitor her health sometime while she was out, instead looking at the small bot that now stuck to her like glue. She suddenly grinned and hauled herself out of the cot, ignoring the unhappy protests of the medics, scooped Ein up onto her shoulder, and headed to her personal workroom where she locked the door behind her. "Contact Abigail." Ein let out the cool chime she had learned meant agreement and conformation and the relatively empty room filled with the sound of a ringing phone as she grabbed her toolbox and shuffled towards the robotic form that was now in its <em><strong>proper<strong>_ place. There was always something she could make better and she hated having her other body resting anywhere other than her workroom where someone could tinker with it without her permission, not that she'd ever give it. She allowed no one to work on her other body, not even Abigail.

"Yes?" The voice was as controlled as usual and Lyre couldn't help but smile faintly when she heard it.

"That went quite well, don't you think?" She released a quiet grunt at the end as she pried part of the paneling off of the right leg, exposing the more delicate wiring and circuitry of the ankle underneath, and began digging in almost gleefully.

There was a quiet snort that was quickly covered by her words, not that Lyre was paying enough attention to notice anyways. "I would have perhaps handled it a little differently but overall I would say that, yes, that went quite well. I can see why you respect them."

She waved a hand airily over her shoulder, not that it could be seen by anyone other than Ein. "Not just respect, I genuinely like them. I have a good feeling about them. You could sense it too, couldn't you?"

Abigail's eyebrows lifted in surprise at the other end of the phone call, she was aware that Lyre felt that way, she'd always been quite good at reading her friend, unless she was intentionally lying of course, but the fact that she herself admitted such feelings _**aloud**_? Abigail allowed the Autobots to rise a bit in her esteem for making such a strong impression on her usually almost paranoid friend, the almost was kind of debatable to be honest.

It seemed she was taking too long to answer because Lyre continued, her voice taking on a hint of nervousness she would not have shown with anyone else. "You agreed with my decision concerning Tony, right? It was the proper choice?"

"Yes, it was a wise decision." There were times when Lyre had to be reassured, much like a child, that she had done well. "He will remain on base, his contact with the Autobots as limited as possible. Maybe if he can learn to at least contain his hostilities I will consider giving him another trial run."

"He's going to be even more angry with me." It was not really a question.

"He will." The conformation was unnecessary.

Lyre dug into her work with a bit more vigor.

"Has the incident with the information leak been solved?" It came out a snarl and Lyre didn't need someone to tell her for her to realize that she was channeling her frustrations, she was just glad it was in a constructive direction for once.

She could hear the displeasure that leaked _**oh**_-_**so**_-_**slightly**_ into Abigail's voice, though she was still as cool as a block of ice. "Unfortunately we've hit something of a roadblock."

Lyre sat back with a frustrated groan and pulled her hands away from the delicate mechanics she was tinkering with, the moment she dropped her tools her fingers began curling in, creating fists that quickly went white in the knuckles. "Don't tell me." The violent frustration and irritation that was in her voice felt almost tangible.

"What I've been able to trace leads me to suspect one of the governmental…aids as the culprit, though whether they're working alone or not is still an unknown."

Lyre openly laughed, bitter though it was. "I knew it was a bad idea to let the government have even the slightest hold on this project. Their little spies are more trouble than they're worth."

"Even Tony?"

Lyre looked sharply up at Ein, an expression of pain and uncertainty flickering in her eyes before they hardened into a sharp metallic glare. "…_**Especially**_ Tony."

* * *

><p>Optimus replayed the incident in his possessor yet again, still completely astounded by all that he had seen and heard in such a short time. He had been able to tell that humans were a special breed of organic from the moment he met them, their species had a great amount of potential but he could never imagine they were so ingenious, not so early in their species development. His scanners were nowhere near as detailed as a medic's but to him the bodies had been so very <em><strong>real<strong>_.

And to see them _**move**_.

Primus.

It was only the lack of a Spark signature and the fact that there were slight discrepancies, he was only able to see them after an intentional Deep-Scan that went to the sub-atomic level, that allowed him to even begin to believe that they were man-made. Even so, part of him felt that they had to have had help, it just seemed so impossible otherwise. But he knew, in his Spark he knew that they told the truth.

Ratchet seemed to accept them rather quickly, perhaps it was due to the nature of his programming, to the grouchy CMO all beings that landed on his surgical table were the same: his patients. It left him rather open minded in such matters, although he was no less irritable about it than he was with anything else. The crotchety old mech even seemed to like the femmes, not that they were able to tell but Optimus had known the mech for a long time and he could tell. The giveaway had been when Ratchet had disapprovingly noted aloud that Lyre's armor was lighter and less abundant than it should have been.

Optimus chuckled, recalling her very arrogant response stating that the strength of her armor hardly _**mattered**_ if nothing was ever able to _**hit**_ her, it reminded him of a few Cybertronian younglings he'd encountered before. Memories of his former compatriots brought to his processer the small number of 'bots under his command here on this planet which in turn brought the recent meeting back to mind. The femme had offered a deal, the conditions of which had been greatly surprising. In exchange for battling side by side to defeat the Decepticons and helping with the government in any way they could, though they warned that not even humans could really overcome the evils of politics, all they asked was that their human origins be kept a secret from the other 'bots. This was so that they would be treated no differently than any other Autobot, a concern which Optimus could understand from an objective point of view, though knowing his subordinates as he did he doubted it would really be a problem. They would be two different entities, the human and the cybertronian. Only the medic, who would have undoubtedly noticed something was amiss the moment he started working on them, as he most likely would at one point, this being a war and all, and the leader, who it just seemed wrong to lie to, would know what they really were.

Abigail, while in her Cybertronian guise, would be Codebreaker.

Lyre would be Windfury.

And they would be Autobots.

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><p><strong>Please drop me a review, yeah? I'd love to know what you think and to hear any suggestions you have, please? ^_^<strong>


	8. The Human Element And First Mission

**So, Merry Christmas/December Holiday and Happy New Year! I hope you had lots of fun and good food this holiday season and enjoyed time with family.**

**Okay so, here's chapter 7 of my story, Project Mockingbird, I hope you enjoy it. Things are about to get real interesting in my story although, unfortunately, my favorite twins won't make an appearance for a couple more chapters yet. Thanks to those that alerted/favorited and special thanks to Luna636 for her review. On a less happy side note, I would like to point out that Luna636 is the only one to review for my last two chapters, this makes me sad. I would really like to know what everyone thinks of my story. Please review, it makes me happy and when I'm struggling with writing I like to go over my reviews again and read them. So anywho, to sum up, please review.**

**And enjoy the latest installment of Project Mockingbird.**

* * *

><p>Project Mockingbird<p>

Chapter 7: The Human Element And First Mission.

* * *

><p>It had been almost six weeks since the agreement between the Autobot leader and the director of Project Mockingbird, so far the faux-Cybertronians had yet to make their debut. Abigail was working closely with the Autobots in her human form as an outside consultant, helping them deal with the government with the same efficiency she used when dealing with her own people.<p>

Lyre, on the other hand, had not left her lab since their phone chat unless specifically called and was currently working on making the bodies even more realistic with the aid of Ratchet, who she was in almost constant contact with via Ein. Ratchet, when not in some argument or another with her, they both enjoyed it thoroughly not that they would willingly admit to it, helped her create a phantom Spark-signal, among other things, one that would register as a dampened signal that should be able to pass most scrutiny. He also put in a special room back at the Transformers' base that opened directly into his Medical bay that could house their Cybertronian bodies away from prying eyes when they finally arrived.

Ein had been given several upgrades to incorporate into his still developing body, the latest of which enabled him to perform scans almost as good as a med bot, it made information transfer much easier and he had been secretly using it, by request of Abigail, on Lyre, allowing Ratchet to keep tabs on her health, as she was prone to overworking herself and neglecting her needs when she had something that she felt was important to work on. He also had an assortment of hand tools scanned into his memory banks and could act like a sentient pocketknife if he so chose, most of the time he simply played Lyre's favorite music for her and kept her from falling asleep at her desk.

Which she did quite often.

As for the problem involving the information leak, well, that was never resolved, the government refusing to see it as anything more than Lyre and Abigail trying to get rid of the mandatory government involvement in their project with petty accusations.

They were told to drop the matter.

Not that they did, this is Nightingale and Drake we're talking about here, they just stopped trying to get the _**government**_ to do something about it. Instead they set up a careful monitoring system, designed to, hopefully, catch anomalies, such as information being sent to people who shouldn't get it, unfortunately they had to do this in such a way that they wouldn't be caught by the government, so it wasn't nearly as precise as it should have been.

Sector Seven was in the process of being disbanded and a special unit called N.E.S.T. was taking its place, there were already plans in the works for a base on an island called Diego Garcia, it would be largely underground and only special personnel would have access to it. It would serve largely as a military unit though some scientists whose work was based on the study of the Cybertronians would also be housed there.

As for the Decepticon front… Megatron was killed during the Mission City incident but it was well know that Starscream escaped and his relocation and elimination was one of the main priorities of the newly forming NEST. They have had little luck in it, as all remaining Decepticons seemed to be laying low for the time being, Starscream especially.

For the most part it all seemed to be moving forward, slowly but surely they were moving forward.

* * *

><p>Tony stood at the doorway to Lyre's workroom, struggling with himself. He wanted to get her to talk to him again, needed her to talk to him. They had passed in the hall and she had not even looked at him, this was different from their other arguments, she wasn't glaring at him, wasn't yelling at him, she just…acted like he wasn't there at all. He couldn't stand it.<p>

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Lyre was sitting at her desk, back to the door, bent over something tiny and muttering incoherent curses as she worked. She didn't even look away from her work, simply waved a hand over her shoulder in the general direction of her living area, fold up cot, bathroom (with shower), a holding chest for storage, and table for one. "Just leave the food over there please; I'll eat it in a little while."

"I'm afraid I didn't think to bring anything, sorry."

She stiffened, frozen in place, before slowly setting her tools down and straightening into a standing position, hands on her desk. "What do you want Tony? Come to yell at me again?"

He stared at her back, as she had yet to turn around. "Maybe I did."

The muscles in her shoulders seemed to tighten imperceptibly at his words and her voice, when she spoke, was ice cold. "Well, try again some other time, I'm busy right now."

"Yes, I'm quite aware of that." Despite the fact that he had come to make peace with her he couldn't help the sneer that crept into his voice, nor the words bitterly spoken. "Having fun are you?"

She turned around so fast she seemed to be nothing but a blur and glared at him with eyes that blazed. "I made the right decisions! I did what _**had**_ to be done! Be mad at me all you want, but leave me out of it, it's tiresome always fighting with you anyways, I have better things I could be doing." She spoke with such heated conviction, a finger pointed almost accusingly at his chest, he would never know of the doubt and the guilt she felt for her choices.

"Oh? What had to be done? Tell that to the people of Mission City, the ones who lost their lives when we could have been there protecting them. When we _**should**_ have been there!" He had moved forward without realizing and was now toe to toe with her, looking down into her eyes.

"We should have, but we couldn't. Had we gone it quite possibly would have escalated matters even further, I made a calculated decision and in the end I chose the best course of action."

There was a harsh sneer on his face and he knew the words he was about to speak were a lie, would hurt her, he couldn't seem to stop them. "No wonder you like these robots so damn much. You're heartless, just like them." And he left, but not before he saw the stricken expression on her face and the tears built up in her eyes.

* * *

><p>Lyre did not speak to Ratchet for two days, nor did she seem to work on anything at all, even so, she never once stepped out of her workshop and she refused to let anyone in. Only Ein knew what happened those two days when she locked herself away and he knew this was a private thing and was not meant to be shared, not even with the CMO. The third day she was back to work, the door unlocked once more, and the smile on her face as though nothing at all had happened. There were rumors of course, but none dared ask her except for Abigail, who she ignored until the matter was dropped.<p>

Tony stayed away from her, only approaching her when he absolutely had to, though he was often spotted staring after her with an expression of regret, guilt, and longing. There were rumors about that, too, but again, no one asked. The work continued on in that fashion for almost three more weeks before there was another upset.

It came in the form of a phone call.

* * *

><p>"I heard you Abigail, you don't have to grouch at me. Geez." Lyre was stuffing her feet into a pair of black boots, caution-cone orange knee-highs peeking out before she zipped them away into the darkness, she straightened the slate gray slacks she had quickly changed into and slipped her black leather jacket on over her amethyst colored silk blouse. "Are you certain it's him?"<p>

"Of course we're not certain, that's why we're sending out a group to identify him." She jumped at the new voice, glancing at Ein where he sat on her duffle bag acting as a speaker phone.

"I don't need you grouching at me either you old mech." Among the many things they'd learned about the Autobots, one of the main ones was how terribly rude it was to call them robots, it was a thing now saved solely for the Decepticons. "Is there any particular reason you guys want 'Gail and I to be the ones to make the ID?" She was now at her desk, shifting through the papers scattered about as if thrown, there was a chirp from Ein, his "_Eureka!_" sound, and she turned to see him using his targeting laser like a laser pointer, indicating her food table where, low and behold, the file she was searching for was located. "Thanks Ein. So, how long to fly out there?"

"Not long. It's that second flight that you'll hate." Abigail was the one speaking again.

"Why?"

"Because we'll be in the cargo hold."

"Oh that's funny." There was a long pause that Lyre decidedly did not like, not one bit. "Wait, you're serious?"

"As death."

"Great. So not only do I have to get dressed up for an annoying meeting, fly to freaking Africa to confirm a _**possible**_ sighting of Starscream, maybe have to fight said 'Screamer, and play nice with all the little peoples I encounter during that period of time, but I have to fly on top of everything. I hate flying." Despite her complaints she was already on her way out the door, bag slung over one shoulder, folder tucked under an arm and Ein now in phone mode held pressed to an ear.

"There shouldn't be any need for you to fight Starscream. If you do confirm his presence then you will report it and Prime will take the appropriate actions." She walked around to the back of the building, observing as an eighteen-wheeler, no not Optimus, backed up to the loading bay.

"Shouldn't, a guarantee does not make. There's always a chance, I took the liberty of adding an emergency medical pack to each form." She watched with fondness as first a _Mitsubishi i_ in a lovely shade of Celeste Velato then a Tangelo with white pinstripes down the sides _McLaren MP4-12C_ were rolled onto the flatbed for transport, each one covered with a nondescript white tarp. "Hopefully my fighting skills haven't gotten too rusty."

"I doubt they even could get rusty what with how often you use them."

"Abigail, I'm hurt, truly, you make me sound like some sort of ruffian."

"You are a ruffian, you're just abnormal in that you're dangerous in more ways than one."

"I don't know what you're talking about." After making sure both cars were properly and carefully loaded she went back around to the front to wait for her cab.

"No, you never do."

"Why Abigail, I could take that as an insult you know." There was a noncommittal hum from Abigail, Lyre grinned and slid into the back of the cab that pulled up, giving brief directions on how to get to the private airport to the driver. "You know, it's kind of exciting. Our first mission, our official debut, it's thrilling." Abigail calmly agreed with her, voicing her approval for Lyre's mature behavior for once. "Well, you know, except for the part where we could die, that part kinda sucks." There was a sound of exasperation and Lyre's grin widened, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.


	9. Decepticons And Miracles

**So, here's chapter eight! Woo! I've now reached the 20,000 words mark. Um, yeah, anywho, thanks to those that Alerted/Favorited this story. Special thanks to Astraea Maehanla for the review.**

**Okay, so, the twins should be showing up within the next five(ish) chapters, any guesses as to who she meets first? How about **_how_** they meet? Anyone? It should be noted that I do actually have that chapter written, we're just kind of catching up to that point right now.**

**So, I'd really like at least two reviews before I post the next chapter if you would be so kind, it would make me very happy. ^_^**

**This chapter is loosely based on parts of the book **_Transformers: The Veiled Threat_**.**

**Anywho, enjoy! ^_^ And don't forget to drop me a review please.**

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><p>{<em>Internal Communication<em>.}

"Talking, obviously."

* * *

><p>Project Mockingbird<p>

Chapter 8: Decepticons And Miracles.

* * *

><p>Lyre, officially, hated Africa.<p>

Hated it.

All the sand and scrub and sand and bugs and sand, it sucked. A lot. And it was hot, hotter even than her native Texas at the height of summer. And the sand, did she mention the sand? It was fragging _**everywhere**_. Lyre didn't even like sand when it involved the _**beach**_; actually, now that she thought about it, she hadn't been to the beach since she was about seven years old, had hated it even then, the being out and about and surrounded by people.

Boy did she hate dealing with people.

Like the one on her plane ride to Nevada, so she could meet up with Abigail and receive her formal orders from Optimus, who had continually insisted on _**chatting**_. About everything. Even the unpleasantness of being airsick.

In detail.

The busybody also asked numerous questions. Like if she had a boyfriend, and what she planned to do when she graduated high school, things like that. Lyre decided it would be best not to speak at all, not even to say she was already old enough to drink, _thank you _**very**_ much_, as it was likely to not end there and she would be saying some very unpleasant things indeed before she knew it, assuming all she did was talk.

Her saving grace had been Ein, in the guise of an MP3 player, who played _Metallica_ and _Megadeth_ for the duration of the flight, soothing her violent urges somewhat. It was enough, at least, to keep her from assaulting the nearest person, though not enough to keep her from being sullenly unpleasant for several hours following. Not even Abigail telling her to act like the grownup she was could snap her out of it, she did manage to behave long enough for Prime to reiterate what she already knew, confirm the sighting of one very irritating mech, if such a sighting turns out to be true.

_Do not engage_, he'd said, told them to make the ID only. Well, told Lyre, he didn't have to worry about Abigail doing something rash. She'd merely grinned and responded with a worryingly cheerful, _you know me_, which he already did, thus the worry. Nevertheless, he still felt it was best to put Drake and Nightingale into the field as soon as possible, especially if there was no fighting to be worried about. It would allow him to judge how useful they would be without risking anyone's lives.

It was hard to tell who he was more worried about, Abigail, who did not seem to have any fighting skills at all, or Lyre, who was much too reckless for her own good, perhaps he should be equally worried about both. Or perhaps neither, they were both quite intelligent after all, likely they would be able to handle each other and their corresponding shortcomings. All the same, he couldn't help but feel on edge as he watched them depart, something in his Spark was warning him to be ready. For what, he had no idea.

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><p>They had been there for four days but still no sign of the mech. Plenty of other idiots though.<p>

Ein had decided to stay with their human bodies in the hospital two large cities away from the wilderness they were searching through to monitor their condition and message them if they needed to return for some reason. So far nothing had happened that was any cause for concern.

They took turns each night, returning to their own bodies to sleep and eat real food, something other than nutrients from an IV drip, and walk around, to take in the sights and keep their muscles from getting too stiff. It was during one of Lyre's circuits of the city, she never actually slept when it was her turn, that a rather distinctive jet did a flyby over the outskirts. She didn't waste a second to act surprised, simply jumped right in. "Ein," he always went with her on her walks, usually as an MP3 player, "contact the Big Man, tell him we've got a sighting. Monitor him, I want to know where he is at all times. And send the scan data," she knew he would do an automatic scan, "to the Doc, I'm sure he has previous scans he can compare to validate our claim."

She was already walking briskly towards the hospital, ignoring the idiotic remarks from those unsavory persons that tended to stay out in the dark, especially near alleys and other such "private" places, some of them only made that way by the things which they consumed in excess. Those that attempted to do more than simply make remarks were pinned with one of her more dangerous glares and found themselves looking elsewhere for their entertainment, those few that still persisted generally found themselves with twisted arms, though most backed off before it came to that. Abigail did not have to deal with such things because she stayed away from the areas they happened in, Lyre had no such inclination, often she went looking for a fight to blow off steam caused by her frustration at not finding the Seeker. Abigail tended to look the other way, pretending she didn't know about it, for which Lyre was grateful.

By the time she arrived at her room Ratchet had commed back to confirm that it was indeed Starscream they had seen; Optimus responded not a moment later, informing them that he, Ratchet, Ironhide, Salvage, and Beachbreak would be there soon to take care of him. Lyre, now Windfury, informed him that she and Codebreaker would follow at a distance to keep from losing him, she also promised not to engage unless absolutely necessary.

She passed one more thing on to him before closing the line, a warning to him that her team had been picking up pings on the edges of their sensors the whole time they'd been searching and they suspected they were Cybertronian in nature but they'd never managed to get close enough to confirm it. Optimus thanked her and reminded her to be careful, to which she once again replied with that _**oh so**_ worrying, _you know me_, closing the line and opening one with Ein instead, her cheerful demeanor falling slightly as she slipped into a more serious mindset. {_Talk to me Ein, where am I going_?} Ein sent her a streaming image, a map, which had icons indicating Starscream, Windfury, Codebreaker, and himself. She glanced at 'Coder and as one they headed in the Seeker's direction, luckily he was moving towards them as well, meaning they had less ground to cover before they caught up with him.

Inside of an hour they stopped, looking for all the world like aspects of a campsite that had not been completely set up yet, allowing him to go past them before they started moving again, trailing him carefully.

* * *

><p>They were operating on radio silence now, not even in contact with Ein anymore as they crept along, keeping out of sight in the mist of Victoria falls. Why 'Screamer had stopped here was an unknown, never-the-less, he had; he was, in fact, performing tightly controlled circuits in the air above and Windfury got the distinct impression that he was waiting for something.<p>

This was confirmed when he moved to intercept three Cybertronian signals, none of which were familiar. The lack of fighting led her to believe that they were Decepticons as well. Despite the fact that Codebreaker was the one with a light blue coloring it was Windfury, in all her orange glory, that continued closer, senses straining. It was she that had been built with speed and flexibility in mind, the reason she was so lightly armored, it also made her very light on her feet; Codebreaker, while smaller, was much more solidly built, made to endure whatever was handed to her.

She could only get so close to them, they were on the wrong side of the falls for any real spying, Starscream and company up on the ledge while she was on the ground far below, but it was close enough to run scans on the other 'cons present, all had terrestrial alt. modes. She could do nothing until the Autobots arrived anyways, there was a reason they were running on silent, and the information wasn't quite valuable enough to chance tipping off Starscream to their presence.

She fell back to Codebreaker's location for the time being, not long after that the newcomers departed and Starscream took to the air, though he flew along the edge of the falls carefully and made no move to leave. He was up to something, she could feel it. A glance at Codebreaker told her that she was suspicious as well, that decided her. She indicated that Codebreaker was to stay at the location she was at and then she moved towards the Seeker once more, carefully. She was directly under him, then past, putting him in the middle with Codebreaker on his other side. Windfury froze halfway to her destination.

Stuck.

Nothing was holding her but she _**felt**_ stuck. She felt like she was going the wrong way. Activity on her comm. told her that the Autobots had arrived, she sent her collected information to Ratchet and Optimus without even thinking about it, only faintly registering Ratchet telling her the Decepticons' names, Macerator, Dropkick, and Payload. She turned the only direction that didn't feel wrong and found herself facing a wall of water, she hesitated for the briefest second before walking forwards.

* * *

><p>It was dark, her optics struggling to adjust to the odd way light moved in the cave, the mist and the curtain of water at the entrance made the light seem alive, flickering and twisting like a serpent. She still wasn't where she needed to be.<p>

She moved deeper.

* * *

><p>It was in the third large chamber that she finally came to a stop, the eighth chamber she had moved through. Her gaze swept over everything, immediately catching on the anomaly. She stepped closer but stopped when the chamber filled with light from a storm of blue sparks, all reaching out to her.<p>

{_Ratchet_.}

{_Not now femme_.}

She ignored his words, sending her scan data with her next transmission. {_Ratchet_. _Tell me that's not what I think it i_s.}

{_Femme_! _What did I just_-**Primus**! _That's an_ **Allspark** _fragment_!}

{_Yeah, that's kinda what I thought it was_.} There was faint ping on her sensors, faint but close, she turned and met red optics. "Oh slag."


	10. Becoming Other And Facing The Leviathan

**'kay, so...no reviews, dis makes meh sad, but oh well. Um, I really want feedback on this chapter simply because this is only like the second fight scene I've ever written and I need some guidance if my future fights are to be any good. Thanks go out to those that favorited/alerted. I hope you enjoy this chapter. ^_^ The type-os will be fix in a few days when I go back home, at the moment I'm at my dad's house where you're lucky I even have internet and Notepad, I hate Notepad by the way, it sucks, a lot. ^_^**

**She (the chapter) has been edited! Reviews? Anyone? ^_^**

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><p><strong>Project Mockingbird<strong>

**Chapter 9: Becoming Other And Facing The Leviathan.**

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><p>That one moment to react was everything, she knew it was. Because, in that instant, she was standing on the border between her world and that of the Autobots, she was on the cusp of becoming something other than human. In fighting for their cause she would be giving herself over wholly to it, and there would be no going back. She knew that. She knew that once she gave herself over to the Autobot cause that she would never, should the situation ever require it, be able to put humans before Autobots. For she would be fighting not as a human for an ally's cause, but as an Autobot for the Autobot cause, it would in that moment become her own. And there truly would be no going back from that.<p>

She knew it.

It was not a hard decision to make, though perhaps it should have been.

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><p><strong>*Back at an undisclosed location in the States*<strong>

* * *

><p>"It has become apparent that we will be unable to get our hands on one of the Brains. We need to try a different approach if we want that information."<p>

A snort, the voice was scornful. "**_If_** we want that information? Do you know how much that info would be **_worth_** on the Black Market? That's assuming we even wanted to sell it."

"We don't." Sharp, commanding, this was the voice that belonged to he whose word was law, he was to be obeyed or there would be hell to pay. "That information is invaluable to us, with it... well, we all know what we could do with information like that." There were chuckles, some malicious, some almost wistful. "Get in touch with The Baron, we will be using his skills for this job."

"_Capo_, are you sure that's a good idea? If he's involved then that means-"

"Do as you're told." Anger, annoyance. "Or shall I have someone else head this operation? You have already failed me once when you were unable to grab the girl."

There was a low curse in Italian before the Brainless Behemoth nodded sharply. "_Sì Capo_, I will do as you say."

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><p><strong>*And back to our Leading Lady*<strong>

* * *

><p>She crouched slightly, feet spread to carry her weight, short Energon blades appearing in her hands as if from nowhere at all. She smiled, held tilted to one side almost invitingly, at the mech in front of her but it was a dangerous smile, different than the one's she had used before, for this fight would be more violent than any she had ever faced, different because she would try with all that she had within herself to kill the being standing before her. "Will you come at me then?"<p>

The mech laughed with ferocious delight, carnal and primitive as was befitting a battle. It was, in its own way, as terrible as a war cry. Her smile widened and she felt an answering laugh coming from her Energon-blood and echoing up out of her body for the whole world to hear, optics lightening to a blue so fiercely pale they were like shards of the bright harsh desert sky, pitiless and brutal.

He came then, his own blade ready for hers. She was not there to meet him when he arrived, though he did not have the time to wonder where she had gone. The bite of her blades into his back armor was enough an answer to that.

He spun, blade out in a sweeping motion, hungry for her metallic flesh. Again she was not there when he ought to have reached her. And again he had no time to wonder where she'd gone, he gave an angry cry when her blades cut a deep score down his side and this time leapt away from her, careful to keep her in his sights. He stood with a slight hunch, his injured side facing carefully away from her and eyed her with contemplation; it was obvious he had jumped into this fight without much thought, underestimating her, and was now regretting it.

She flashed him a cattish smile and gave a languid stretch, mocking him with her unscathed form, before settling down into her careful crouch, ready to move at any moment. She would not charge him, to do so would be foolish of her as his was the longer reach, but she would not allow herself to be unprepared for his next attack.

Although she **_was _**slightly unprepared for his sudden **_retreat_**.

She hesitated for only an instant before cautiously following him, her senses spread wide to detect any other Cybertronians nearby. She would not allow something as valuable as an Allspark fragment to fall into Decepticon hands, all the same, if he wished to move their battle away from the shard she would not object. The knowledge that she was far enough away that the energy of that shard would not be able to bring her robotic body to life caused her to let go of at least one stressor.

She began moving more gracefully with that small bit of freedom, giving sudden sharp lurches in the mech's direction as if in attack, always just barely out of reach, that had him feeling as though he was being herded despite the relocation being his idea in the first place.

When they came upon the next large chamber she was forced to duck as he took a quick swipe at her head, cursing and only just nicking his arm in retaliation. She was forced to give up her attempts at unnerving him, she lost too much focus for it to be of any benefit for her, and instead keep a careful eye on that blade of his. Not letting her attention wavier for even a second.

Just as he planned.

Her intent focus on his sword was why she missed the small transformation occurring in his other hand, the appearance of a short-range Energon pistol. She did not notice it, that is, until he shot her with it.

It was luck, mostly, that she had in that moment made a sudden movement to the left in a bid to attack his injured side, it meant that she was shot in the shoulder instead of the chest.

The instant she registered the new weapon she adapted to meet it, bringing forth her own gun, it was not exceptionally powerful as her expertise lay in the use of blades and close-quarters combat not anything long-range, but in the cave where their movements were confined it would easily be a match for his.

He, whose expertise was more balanced, realized this as well and immediately moved to draw her out of the cave system altogether and out into the open.

He succeeded, for she was now very angry and was consequentially thinking with less clarity, but was slightly less triumphant than he had expected. The mech stared in shock at the hole in his abdomen and glanced up at the femme he had been fighting, her hands were at her sides, still wisely armed but clearly not the source of his new injury, and she was smiling viciously. He stumbled slightly and turned to flee. The sound of burning, sizzling, warping metal was drowned out by the roar of the mighty falls as he collapsed to the ground, another hole joining the first in his chest.

Windfury watched with a morbid festination as the blue glow from the mech's Spark slowly faded to darkness, she turned back to the cave with a sound of satisfaction low in her throat. {_Thanks Coder._}

And the always cool voice in reply. {_You're welcome Fury._}

Their choice was made.

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><p><strong>The title is a reference to a phrase I've read before "facing the leviathan" used when facing the character's first battledeath in war.**

**_Capo_, if you were wondering, is Italian, supposed to be anyways, for boss. So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, shoot me a reveiw, yeah? ^_^ See you next time!**


	11. A Bad Day And A Big Problem

**Four reviews since I posted my last chapter… all from my little bro… I feel depressed… *sad face* Anyways, here's the next chapter of Project Mockingbird. Depending on how it comes out as I write it one of the twins will be in either the next chapter or the one after that, but I kind of think it'll be in the next chapter. Any guesses as to which one it'll be? Or what about how they meet? RedDragonKing you better not say anything since I already told you, else you'll regret it. *malicious smile* Thanks, by the way, to those that favorite/alerted this story and/or me as an author.**

**Hope y'all enjoy the latest chapter. Drop me a review, yeah?**

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><p><strong>Project Mockingbird<strong>

**Chapter 10: A Bad Day And A Big Problem.**

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><p>Lyre was back in the safe, controlled environment that was her office, sitting with her head in her shaking hands as she adjusted to what had transpired just a little over a day ago. There was a lot on her mind.<p>

She felt ill; Beachbreak was dead. She'd never even met him. It shouldn't bother her as much as it did, the death of someone she'd never met, but it did. Seeing him lying lifeless on the ground after being dashed against the rocks at the base of the falls had bothered her. Not even the incredibly strong alien metal that served as his armor could protect him from a fall like that. His Energon had been all over the place, glowing bluish-purple liquid clinging to everything.

That was one of the things pressing so desperately in on her mind.

She'd fought a mech. A Decepticon, one of the bad guys, but still a person. She'd tried to kill him. She'd watched him as he died, had a hand in it even. She was disgustingly, _**sickeningly**_ glad that he was dead. It disturbed her.

That was another.

The Allspark was not as completely destroyed as the Autobots had originally thought. It seemed to be remaking itself. Reforming. The shards were unstable, the energy signature fluctuating in a way that made them untraceable as they reconstituted. For whatever reason, she could sense when a piece of it was nearby.

That was another.

Starscream had escaped. He had almost killed Optimus and he _**did**_ kill Beachbreak. Someone like him deserved to be captured. But he got away, he slipped through their fingers.

That was another.

Ironhide now knew of the existence of the non-Cybertronian Transformers, though he didn't know that that was what they were. He'd seen them with his own eyes, optics, whatever. He did not seem particularly pleased with the information.

_**That **_was _**another**_.

"It's all my fault."

She had messed up.

That was the worst part.

The part that she couldn't get out of her mind.

The thought that just wouldn't leave her alone.

She had _**messed**_ _**up**_.

Bad.

Not just the part where she'd made a rookie mistake while fighting that Decepticon, resulting in her other body getting damaged.

Before that.

Before she'd ever entered the cave.

If she had used her head, thought things out like she should have… Things could have been different. Starscream might be captured or at the very least dead. Beachbreak might still be alive. The Autobots, already so few in numbers, might not now be one more short.

It could have gone differently.

Codebreaker had done her job; she'd watched her idiot partner's back and kept her from being killed by a Decepticon. But if Lyre, if Windfury, had never entered the cave…

"Oh god, it's _**all**_ my _**fault**_."

If she'd never entered the cave system then Codebreaker could have been watching Starscream instead. She could have stopped him before he ever touched Beachbreak, before he ever threw him over the edge of Victoria Falls to die. If Lyre had kept her head in the game, not followed some weird feeling, then maybe things would have come out completely different.

"It could have been completely different. It's all my _**fault**_." She wasn't aware that she was speaking aloud. Wasn't aware that she kept saying the same things over and over again. The same things that were running through her mind.

Repeating.

She neither saw, nor heard, nor even felt, the little bot sitting on her knee alternating between worried chirps and soothing purrs. She didn't register her office door being slammed open, nor the angry male stomping towards her with an air about him that simply screamed '_fury_'. "I knew it. You damned, infuriating, _**confusing**_ woman, why are you always doing this to me? Can't leave well enough alone when it comes to you." Not even his voice reached her in the state she was in.

He grabbed her by the upper arms and hauled her to her feet, paying no mind at all to the displaced 'bot who sent disapproval his way via loud annoyed sounds. When she was standing at her full height before him he gave her a quick, sharp shake before pressing his lips to hers. He pulled away to yell at her. "Damn it woman! I hate you so much." But there was a soft tenderness in both his eyes and his voice as he spoke the words that took away their impact and viciousness.

Her eyes focused on him as his actions pulled her out of her thoughts and she stared at him for what seemed to be a very long time. Her eyes were sad. "Tony. Please don't Tony. You know what will happen." He did know, as did she, but even as she spoke the words her arms were reaching out and wrapping around him, pulling him closer even as she knew she should push him away.

It would not end well.

It never did.

They were bad for each other. Like a poison.

Too different, and yet, at the same time, _**much**_ too similar.

They pushed one another.

Fought and yelled.

Eventually they pushed too hard and one of them would crack. Crumble a little on the inside.

They'd go their separate ways, live their lives.

But they always came back to the person who understood them the best. Who loved them.

And they did love one another.

It's just that they were _**bad**_ for each other.

Lyre sobbed into his chest as he held her carefully, running his fingers soothingly through her hair. She was fragile in that moment and he treated her that way, it was not often that she let herself be fragile. She never said anything after that, just cried; he murmured quietly to her, calming phrases that she didn't even hear, all the while running his fingers through her hair and pressing the occasional kiss to her forehead, cheek, lips.

* * *

><p>Ein watched, silent now, perhaps even a bit confused by their actions, this was, after all, the same man who had made Lyre cry before. The one she'd seemed to almost hate.<p>

He didn't understand.

But, that seemed to be a theme when it came to humans. They were all so confusing and complicated. Or was it just the humans _**he'd**_ met? Admittedly, he had not met all that many.

He was worried about his human. His Lyre. She was… to be honest his programing had identified her as his femme creator, a surrogate '_mother_', but still his one and only. His mech creator had yet to be identified. Ratchet's theory was that the reason his femme creator could be a _**human**_ was because he had not been made in a more conventional manner; she had kept him safe, making her a '_protector_', she was a female, making her a '_**femme**__ protector_'. The first femme protector a bot knows is their femme creator, so to him that is what she became.

He was not entirely sure how she would react to that information. Part of him expected her to accept it with ease, she seemed so open to the idea of the Autobots when she ought to be at least a little afraid, the other part of him feared that she would find it too strange, too odd. That was only a small part of him though. Even so, he had Ratchet hold off on telling her, he was… nervous about it.

There was a sudden loud, cracking, thunderous sound.

The walls trembled.

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><p><strong>*With the Boss Man*<strong>

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><p>Optimus was concerned about the human femme, Lyre.<p>

Loss was something with which he was unfortunately quite intimately familiar, as such, he was also quite familiar with how he and the other Autobots _**dealt**_ with that loss. He was less familiar with _**human**_ coping mechanisms, especially the odd Lyre's. Humans were, in many ways, very much like Cybertronians, but in other ways the two species were completely different, he was uncertain which one this would fall under.

Younglings, there were times he was almost certain she would be a youngling were she truly Cybertronian, but perhaps that had something to do with her mischievous and rash nature, younglings did not handle death well, often they needed a stronger, more mature 'bot to help them deal with the shock and the sudden swells of negative emotions such an event caused. That it had occurred while she was on her first mission, as leader at that, made it even worse, even if the event was not directly related to her. Likely she would analyze every action, every decision, she would conclude that it was her fault if she followed proper logic.

Realistically though… realistically there was very little she could have done, the Allspark was a mysterious power that not even the greatest of his people had ever fully understood. If it had wanted her to find it, as seemed to be the case, she would have had very little say in the matter.

She could not be faulted.

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><p><strong>*Back to our Leading Lady*<strong>

* * *

><p>Lyre was suddenly very much aware of her surroundings. She clutched onto Tony for a different kind of support then what she had needed only a moment ago as her mind worked furiously. "We need to get to the Link-In room. <em><strong>Now<strong>_!" Their artificial bodies would allow them to handle the situation better; everything about them was faster, stronger, and more advanced.

He was already leading the way before she had even finished speaking.

* * *

><p><strong>*At a previously mentioned, but still undisclosed, location*<strong>

* * *

><p>"How are things progressing?" It was posed as a question but there was a quality about it that made it into a demand.<p>

"The operation is under way _Capo_. I'm amazed; The Baron was ready so quickly."

"Don't be. That _**conceited**_ bastard. Said he was _**surprised**_ we took so long to call him. Apparently he's been ready to move ever since the attempted grab, he already had almost everything in place, he was just waiting for the go-ahead." Frustration; an immature, almost childish, anger.

"Don't let him get you so riled up. It's his job to be ready for every eventuality; I would be rather disappointed in him otherwise." A teasing smile but the eyes did not match. The eyes were full of menace. "And _**do**_ be careful with your words, I'd hate for you to say something that offended him before the job was finished, he's so sensitive you know, he might decide to stop before everything was done. That would make me quite unhappy, you understand."

Gulps all around; body language shifting to nervousness. "_Si Capo_, we will be more careful." Fear.

"Oh, I _**knew**_ you would understand." Satisfaction.

* * *

><p><strong>*And one more time*<strong>

* * *

><p>They did not need the enhanced sensors to know that what they were feeling were small bombs going off. They did, however, need them in order to locate where said bombs were placed. "<em><strong>Holy shit<strong>_!" Tony's voice was filled with his shock as he registered what his scans were telling him.

Windfury voiced her agreement. "How did they even get that many positioned throughout the building? And without anyone noticing?" She felt fear welling up in her mind, threatening to overtake her. The terror was not for herself. She didn't waste another second as she remotely activated the evacuation protocols.

Alarms blared.

Explosions rocked the building.

Warning lights flashed.

People continued to die.

Windfury and Tony, he never did choose an alternate name for himself, quickly went in different directions, both with the same objectives in mind. Clear path blockages, disable bombs whenever possible, and help people evacuate. They were not overly concerned with the safety of their own bodies, as the Link-In room was the most heavily protected and structurally sound in the entire building. That moment as they went their separate ways was a turning point and it would affect the rest of their lives.

And there would be regret.


	12. Loss And An Autobot

**One review, again from my kid brother, great. That's so depressing.**

**Oh well, here's the next chapter, like I promised. It even has one of the twins like I said it would, though no one bothered to guess who it would be. The chapter should appear to be missing pieces, this is intentional, you will find out what happened later. It has a purpose, I promise. Do you guys even care? Do you like it? Hate it? Am I doing something wrong? I need to know. I can't fix it if I don't know it's broken, you know? Anywho, read, review, whatever.**

* * *

><p><strong>Project Mockingbird<strong>

**Chapter 11: Loss And An Autobot.**

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><p><em>It was dark.<em>

_Calm._

_And cold._

_She hurt._

_She hurt more than words could describe._

_Something had happened._

_Something bad._

_But she couldn't seem to remember._

_For some reason…_

_Her heart was aching._

_Why?_

_Why did her heart feel such pain?_

_There was a sound._

_Drawing her slowly out of the darkness._

_A beeping._

_She knew that beeping._

_She'd heard it before._

_A long time ago._

_Something bad had happened back then too._

_Slowly she opened her eyes to the sound of the heart monitor._

* * *

><p>She didn't bother with a soft groan as she came to her senses, it was out of character for her really. No, she didn't groan, she snarled. "Somebody better turn off the damn lights." A hand was brought up to cover her eyes when nothing changed and she let out a low growl, sweeping the room with her other senses. She realized that the room was empty save for her.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>*Approximately two and a half hours later.*<strong>

* * *

><p>Fira Labyn had worked as a Sector Seven I.A. agent for almost sixteen years. Today was the first time she had ever been afraid. Intimidated? Sure. Uncertain? You bet. But afraid?<p>

Never.

Never, that is, until she was faced with the absolute fury of the being known as Lyre Ann Nightingale. In her line of work she had been faced with people who covered their wrongdoings with false reactions of pain, or righteous anger, when confronted directly about their activities. What she knew about Nightingale had led her to expect the latter. What she had not expected, was for Nightingale to be innocent.

It was in that moment, staring into eyes that _**burned**_ with fury and a thirst for the blood of those responsible, that she realized that someone, much higher up on the chain of command than she, wanted control over Project Mockingbird and wanted Drake and Nightingale out of the picture. She knew this to be so, because all of the information that she had been given when she was assigned this case had said, with undeniable certainty, that the guilty party were those two women.

It was a lie.

She saw it in the tears of the most controlled woman she'd ever met and in the silent fury of the one woman who seemed to have no control at all. And she felt fear.

Not for herself, but for the people who were behind this attack. Because, blazing within the eyes of the silent, tightlipped Nightingale, who was so carefully cradling the crying form of Drake, she saw the promise of _**agony**_. So she feared for those fools about to be hunted.

* * *

><p>Where normally Lyre's anger made her loud and reckless this time she was silent, controlled. Cold, even. Only one thing was in her mind now.<p>

_She would make them pay._

* * *

><p><strong>*Roughly one year later; thirteen days before the opening of the second movie*<strong>

* * *

><p>Sunstreaker was not a happy mech, in truth, if it weren't for the fact that he couldn't move he'd be ripping his Energon blades into the Decepticon that was currently acting as his prison guard with the savage delight that could only really come from his Bezerker mode, his battle rage, which he had been in for the last several days, ever since he was captured after making planet fall. He growled, engine rumbling unhappily as his sensors registered more Decepticons returning to this base of theirs, one of the signatures was new and he rightly inferred that the 'con was a fresh arrival.<p>

The three 'cons headed in his direction and soon enough his audio receptors were picking up the frustrated screaming of an organic. "Listen to me you giant metal toaster! If you don't let go of me you will regret it, I don't know who is behind this but kidnapping me won't get you anywhere!" He could see them now and he realized that the furious organic was a femme, it amused him distantly, for all emotions not Rage were felt only distantly, to see her being held out at arm's length by only two fingers like she was diseased, though the Energon slowly leaking from the 'con's wrist joint suggested there was more to her treatment than her simply being a disgusting little squishy. "It's not like I'll help you with anything you're planning and there's no one that will pay for my safe return if it's a ransom you want so you'd best just let me go now."

The Decepticon holding her snarled and gave her a sharp shake, careful to not cause any real damage to her. "Shut up femme. We know you've had contact with the Autobots so I suggest you stop this annoying game and be a good little hostage."

Sunstreaker's attention perked at the faction name and he observed the female more closely, she was dangling limply from the hand holding her but he could see her hands roaming lightly across the metal fingers holding her, seemingly searching for something. "I don't know what in hell you're talking about. Who are the Autobots? Is that some kind of terrorist group? I won't have any part of something like that I'll have you know."

"We have footage uploaded to the public Decepticon information core by Frenzy before he was off lined of you in the presence of the human charge of the Autobot Bumblebee, on your way to the holding place of the great Lord Megatron."

"Are you really so certain it's me? If what you're telling me about yourselves is true then wouldn't any female human look the same to you? I'm sure we're all simply pathetic insects in your eyes. Am I right?" Her hands found what they were looking for and quickly dug into the finger joint, slipping between the metal plates and ripping at the delicate wires hidden underneath the armor. The Decepticon let out a piercing shriek and dropped the organic automatically, pulling his hand in to inspect the damage. Sunstreaker watched the femme fall, knowing she would die once she hit the ground, she was too high to survive, and the Decepticons didn't seem aware enough to catch her in time. Not that he cared.

She didn't scream, interestingly enough, though she did flail around a bit but even that was more than it first seemed as she angled her body to fall closer to the mech 'til she was sliding down the metal armor. The organic reached out and caught herself on the 'con's hip joint, letting out a small cry of pain as the metal dug into her soft flesh and her body made a dull thud of impact, she paused, hanging there for a moment to catch her breath, before shifting her weight and releasing her grip. She caught herself on the knee joint and repeated until she was sitting uncomfortably on the 'con's foot, she heaved a sigh of relief before shooting a glare up at the mech; slowly, a smile spread across her face, baring her teeth in a way that seemed vicious, and her gaze went to the sensitive wires peeking through the plating of the ankle in front of her.

Unsurprisingly, the mech gave a very femme-like squeal of pain, the pitch causing the organic to wince, and let out a long stream of curses in Cybertronian as he none-too-gently kicked her off. She merely grunted as she crashed through a large, luckily for her it was empty, wooden box and landed with the resounding slap of flesh on concrete.

She managed, with much difficulty, to pull herself up into a sitting position, leaving thin streaks of red wherever her hands touched; there was an awkwardness to her pose that Sunstreaker couldn't quite pinpoint and her movements were less fluid than even the clumsiest organics he'd seen so far, he suspected she was injured, though his audios had not picked up the tell-tale sound of cracking bones when she fell. He took in all of this without paying any attention to her, his battle programing making him hyperaware of all that was happening around him and causing him to automatically compile the gathered information into a usable form for possible use in battle. If only he could fight.

But he couldn't, so he observed, and he analyzed.

Much like the immobilized Autobot she simply watched as the mech jumped around shrieking in both anger and pain, there was a victorious grin on her face that she didn't even try to hide and she seemed to radiate a sense of satisfaction. "Now then," she purred, her voice was calm this time and held a humored lit that even Sunstreaker, who had never conversed with an organic before, and never intended to, could hear. The Decepticons turned to her with amusement and agitation, depending on the mech, "if you're done acting like a little girl I would be most appreciative if you would take me back. I have no interest in dealing with giant robots."

Every mech in the room bristled at the derogatory term, the one she was speaking to even more so as the comment was directed at him, and there was a low growl from all of them, even Sunstreaker, though his was heard as an angry engine and was mostly covered by the sounds from the others. The injured Decepticon took a menacing step towards her, clearly wishing to intimidate the femme and _**clearly**_ disappointed when she didn't even flinch, instead, her glare returned, stronger than ever. "We are _**Mechs**_, Organic, it would be wise for you to remember that."

She relaxed into a smile again and Sunstreaker briefly, distantly, wondered if she had a glitched processor the way her emotions kept flipping back and forth. "I don't care. _**Ro**_-_**bot**_. All I care about is the fact that I'm still here when I specifically remember telling you to release me." She paid special attention to the word that seemed to so anger the Decepticon, dragging it out for extra emphasis; Sunstreaker came to the conclusion that the human female was demented. That, or she was very, _**very**_ brave, and more than a little stupid.

It was hard to tell with organics.

The Decepticon snarled and stomped his foot down harshly, literally only centimeters away from crushing her, causing her whole body to lift momentarily from the ground; she let out a surprised cry when her hands slipped, her body falling without the necessary support and her head making a sharp crack of contact with the cement. She lay sprawled out on her back for a moment, staring dazedly up at the roof above her, it was enough time for the Decepticons to leave, even the mech acting as Sunstreaker's guard; since he couldn't move the mech's presence had served only to annoy him, he supposed they thought the femme would do that for them and they could stop wasting the mech power on it. Her hands came up to her head and she groaned in pain, body relaxing. "_**Asshole**_." It was muttered weakly but with as much vehemence as an audio receptor-splitting shout. "What in hell is going on here? Am I alone at last?"

Sunstreaker would have snorted with distain, with the Decepticons gone his battle rage slackened off into something more manageable, allowing his other emotions to come forth, but he didn't want her to be even remotely aware of his existence, it seemed that she was both demented _**and**_ stupid if she was talking to herself and not picking up on the fact that she was to be a hostage, that was what was '_going on_' at the moment. He almost did to be honest, but she surprised him again when the thick metallic band around her neck unfolded into a small Transformer that stood on her chest and made a negative sound before chirping worriedly at her disheveled state.

She struggled up into a sitting position again, causing the small mech to scuttle down onto one of her legs, still chirping in concern; she paused to take a steadying breath before her eyes swept carefully over the room she was in. Her eyes landed on Sunstreaker and she gasped slightly, muttering something under her breath with a scowl, before heaving a sigh. "So, who're you?"


	13. SuicidalHomicidal Tendencies And Time

**Thanks go out to angel897 and RedDragonKing for the reviews. I like reviews. They make me happy. So… here's the next chapter. Read, enjoy, review. See ya later. Toodles.**

**And yes, I did just say toodles. ^_^**

* * *

><p><strong>Project Mockingbird<strong>

**Chapter 12: Of Suicidal/Homicidal Tendencies And Time.**

* * *

><p>Sunstreaker was disgusted, the human knew what he was and was trying to talk to him; he made no move to respond. She was not in the least bit discouraged by this. "Ein, run a diagnostics check. Find out how deep that damage goes. And try to figure out what that does." It was clear what she was talking about, 'that' being the obviously foreign object attached to the car's hood. There was an agreeable chirp from the little bot before it climbed carefully up onto Sunstreaker, much to his displeasure, and began scanning him, he could tell because he felt the tell-tale itch.<p>

After a few moments Ein made his 'Eureka!' sound and climbed back onto her knee. "Alrighty then, let's see what we got. Shall we?"

She was silent then, occasionally letting out a brief hum of thought, as she read Ein's report. As she looked over his scans he displayed on the screen though she paused, then frowned; she glanced up at the silent 'bot then back at the screen, and again, and twice more. There was a rather peculiar look on her face, not that Sunstreaker would be able to tell. "…Huh. I recognize this internal makeup… I think I know who you are. If I'm right then I'm pretty sure that those Decepticons _**don't**_ know who you are."

That much was true, which surprised him, though he didn't know _**how**_ she knew that. "If you are who I think you are, and I'm fairly certain that you are, then I'll try not to hold it against you." She grinned. "Going by your color scheme, I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that you're the Sunshine twin. I've heard some very bad things about the twins Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, but considering the source…I tend to take everything with a grain of salt. After all, Ratchet never seems to have _**anything**_ good to say and Ironhide is pretty easy to irritate."

He froze in shock, every part of him locking up.

She knew who he was, not just _**what **_he was but _**who**_. She knew about his twin, his other half. She knew about the Autobots; specific, intimate knowledge about individual Autobots. The question was how. And why.

She was opening her mouth to speak again when Ein let out a warning trill and suddenly returned to his hiding place, wrapped around her neck. Lyre went silent and carefully lowered herself back so that she was lying on the ground; she tucked her hands behind her head and stared at the ceiling with a rather blank look on her face. A moment or two later the doors opened and a Decepticon entered.

Sunstreaker's processor immediately switched to battle mode.

Lyre… Lyre had a slightly different reaction. She took one look at the 'con and laughed, quietly and under her breath, but still a laugh.

If a giant mechanical alien could look sullen… well, that's how she would have described him; everything about him, from the way he walked to the expression on his face, made him look like an unhappy child having to do something he didn't want to do. It was really quite funny.

The mech came stomping up to her and she smiled brightly at him. "Yes? Can I help you?"

He scowled in response and folded his arms. "You have to come with me."

She stared for a moment in silence before letting out a quiet chuckle when she realized that he didn't want to touch her, his body language said as much. She shook her head and squirmed slightly, as though settling deeper into her position. "I'm afraid I can't do that, you see, I am quite comfortable where I am and I would be loath to have to get up. You'll have to come back later."

There was silence for a moment as he processed the fact that she had just said _**no**_ and his scowl and glare deepened. "That was not a request."

'_So easy._' Her smile changed as she gave him the same look a parent gives their child when they figure out that two plus two equals four for the very first time. "You're right, it wasn't. I'm glad you could tell the difference. Sometimes, when I don't speak with a forceful enough tone, people don't realize that I'm not giving them an option. It's such a pain always having to clarify. You know what I mean?"

The Decepticon growled.

She pretended not to notice.

"And what's up with coming to get me anyways? You kidnap me, accuse me of being someone I'm not (someone I've never even _**heard**_ of, mind), threaten me, dump me in here, almost kill me with stupidity, give me free _**flying**_ lessons, leave me by myself and ignore me for a bit, and then not even an hour later you're back and telling me I have to go somewhere _**else**_? Yeah… That doesn't work for me. Sorry." Her tone had gotten progressively more irate the longer she spoke and by the end of her little rant her face was twisted into what could only be called a pout.

The Decepticon growled again. Louder this time.

"Huh, you know… the look on your face reminds me of the expression my uncle got whenever he was really annoyed with me, only his whole face would go this odd purplish color and the corner of his right eye would start to twitch. Something to do with his blood pressure apparently… Say, can your eye twitch too or is that a human thing?"

The 'con looked about ready to kill her. Sunstreaker was pretty annoyed himself; though now that he realized that she was doing it on purpose he was also slightly amused. He'd have to remember to show this memory file to Sides; he was sure to get an even bigger kick out of it.

The 'con had had enough. With an angry snarl he reached down and scooped her up with a jerk. "Hey! Watch it! I'm fragile I'll have you know!"

"I am aware of your malfunction."

For some reason that Sunstreaker could not understand this statement caused her to become silent. Though her anger was clear. When she spoke this time it was with a calm coldness that shocked him. "_**Shut**_._** Up**_." It was the most serious he had yet seen the femme and it was… disconcerting to say the least.

The Decepticon actually appeared nervous as he looked at anything but her eyes, which was ridiculous considering their size differences. He carried her out of the room and into another portion of warehouse.

After a long moment of silence she let out a sigh and asked in a tired voice. "Where are we going?"

"Sideways requires your presence." A sneer crept into his voice as he spoke of his fellow Decepticon. "The aft fancies himself our leader whenever our _**real**_ leader is gone. That's not including Megatron of course. Not even he is that stupid. Unfortunately he's pretty powerful, it would waste too much Energon fighting him and there's no guaranty we would win. It's easier to just indulge him for now, when Megatron returns that big head of his will get him into trouble. And I will happily watch as he has a limb or two ripped off."

He went quiet after that and, as she didn't really feel like starting a new conversation, she kept her mouth shut as well.

They arrived in a room that had three other Decepticons and not much else. Lyre could tell who Sideways was even before she was handed to him; he had an arrogant expression on his face while the other two looked distinctly more irritated. He looked down into her disgruntled face and let out a condescending chuckle. "So… you're the little organic causing all the problems." She held her tongue in check, keeping silent only because she knew there would be a perfect moment and she wanted to utilize it to its fullest. "Do you know who I am?" His tone clearly stated that she was a moron if she didn't.

'_There it is_.'

She had to work to keep the smirk off her face. "Oh course I do." She paused to let him soak in his own ego for a moment to make sure her words were at their most effective. "You're the empty-headed, arrogant aft who's going to receive a pounding from Megatron for your self-righteous attitude whenever he puts in an appearance. Sideways, right? It's so nice to meet you, my name's Redd. Redd Harrington." There was dead silence before he suddenly let out a threatening growl and his eyes darkened to an almost violet color, the grip on her ribs was suddenly much tighter.

She just barely managed to keep her face clear of pain.

When she realized that his glare had shifted to the 'con that brought her here she forced a grin onto her face. "Hey now, what'cha glaring at him for? I've met several Decepticons (_It's Decepticons right? That's what you called yourselves?_)in the past hour of my life. That you automatically assume (_You know what they say about that_.) it's the one I was most recently in contact with just proves how empty your big head really is."

"If it was not he, then who was insolent enough to dare say such things?" The dark tone in his voice left no room for her nonsense.

Not that that affected her in the slightest.

"Hmm… you know… I can't seem to recall. All you giant robots look the same to me." The room was filled with an angry rumble as they once again reacted to the derogatory term. She yelped in pain when the grip around her ribs tightened considerably, any more pressure and they'd give way. As it was the almost burning pain that persisted even when his grip loosened slightly suggested at least one of her ribs was cracked.

"Do you wish to be off-lined Organic? You persist most foolishly."

She struggled to force a smile, though it came out more like a grimace. "Actually, I think you're just homicidal but whatever. What can I say? I have some unresolved issues."

Sideways sneered at that but decided that if he was going to get anything done he would have to move on. So he explained the situation to her.

And then he made a call.

* * *

><p>When Optimus answered the Decepticon communication he was not quite expecting what he saw. Decepticons, yes, but not Lyre looking a little worse for the wear. Her hair and clothing were disheveled, her face paler than usual, her eyes were dark with anger and what he realized was a touch of fear, and when her hands moved so that he could see he observed that both had cuts across the palms and were streaked with dried blood. She interrupted him before he could speak. "I have a <em><strong>message<strong>_ for an Optimus Prime. Are you him?"

He stalled for a moment before his processor caught up with what was going on. "I am."

"Oh good." She sighed and smiled brightly. "My name is Redd Harrington. Along with an... _**Autobot**_, was it? Sorry, I _**need a little time**_ to get used to all these strange terms, I get confused. I'm _**working on it**_ though. Anyways, along with some Autobot, pretty _**messed up**_ looking by the way, I have been kidnapped by a group of… beings calling themselves Decepticons. They seem to be under the impression that I'm some chick named Lyre, who names their kid after an instrument anyways? They said that if we want to _**get out**_ of here you're going to have to give them something called an Allspark fragment that was taken from a dead Megatron's chest. I know I don't know you or anything but I'd really like to go home so if you can help me…"

Suddenly the screen shifted and he was faced with a Decepticon he recognized, his optics narrowed. "Sideways."

"You have one Earth day to decide Optimus." He caught the barest glimpse of Lyre being carried away before Sideways cut the transmission. He turned to face William Lennox, who had stayed out of view, after shutting down his side of the link.

"You get all that big guy?"

"Indeed. Lyre is imprisoned with an injured Autobot; she can repair him so that they may escape but needs us to stall for time."

"Yeah, that's what I got out of it too. The girl's pretty smart; think they believe that she's someone else? This Redd Harringto-" He stopped. And then he laughed. And then he explained to the confused leader of the Autobots what a red herring was.

Optimus allowed himself a brief chuckle before becoming serious again. "I think they don't care one way or another. As a human, she is someone we Autobots have sworn to protect. They can use her no matter who she is."

"So… What are we going to do?"

"We do exactly as she asked us to. We stall for time."


	14. Project Mockingbird: v2

Okay, so I don't much like the way this is coming out so...I'm doing a rewrite. Sorry. I'm sure y'all are less than pleased with me but if it makes you feel any better Sunny will be in the first chapter so you don't have to wait for forever and a day for that part.

I'll be posting it as a new story called "Project Mockingbird: v2.0" tomorrow.

Again, I'm really sorry for doing this to you guys but I feel it is necessary. I want to thank all of you for your support and I hope you'll read and enjoy my revised version.

Until next time,

Ta,

BlackMoonWhiteSky


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